What Am I?
by T.J.98
Summary: Jack Wynand escaped from Rapture worse for ware but still alive. Now, in order to provide for his daughters, Jack has taken on a mission to go to Columbia for one last rescue. However, when he meets Elizabeth it changes both of their lives forever. This story shows how Jack might tackle the challenges of Columbia, and the effect Elizabeth would have on him.
1. Chapter 1

**Jack**

* * *

The plane cabin's air was thick with smoke and the taste of ash. The dim buzz of nicotine was almost sweet.

Then in an instant I am on my feet and I can feel the cold steel of the gun in my hand. The flight attendant stood up and screamed as I aimed my gun at her, and I am sure that given the chance she would beg for her life.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I try to will myself to put the gun down; every fiber in every muscle of my being struggles to prevent what is about to happen next, but it is to no effect.

I open fire, shooting her once in the head and a second time in the chest.

 _Would you kindly not open until 63° 2° N, 29° 55° W ..._

As the others on the plane scream and panic, I tread mechanically down the isle while internally begging my body to go no further. In the isles full of panicked innocents I can women and children sobbing. Some look at me as if to ask why I would do such a thing as I have just done.

I shoot at on or two, ensuring the others do not block my path. Already I am covered in blood.

 _Would you kindly not open until 63° 2° N, 29° 55° W ..._

When I reach the pilot's cabin, I lower my gun barrel at the head of the first pilot and paint the controls a disgusting crimson with his blood. The second pilot is only able to turn around in horror before I shoot three times into his chest. It is at this point that the plane begins to lose elevation and I begin to head to one of the escape doors. Screams fill up my ears as I begin to open fire on those standing in the plane's isle.

 _Would you kindly, would you kindly, would you kindly-_

* * *

I wake up, sticky with my own sweat and gasping for air as I did when I first pulled myself out of the water surrounding the plane crash. The only dry part of my body is my mouth; every inch of me is sweaty and I think my eyes are watery.

But when I look around, I see that I am not in Rapture. I am in my bed, in my room, in my home.

"It is over, Jack. You got out of there. You're safe now." But even I do not believe my own hollow words. My voice sounds flat and unconvincing, no matter how many times I tell myself this. Perhaps if I repeat it enough I will believe it, but it is clearly not working right now.

Not daring to go back to sleep and return to my nightmare, I climb out of bed. The hands on my alarm clock read One Thirty Five, but I doubt I would be able to get much sleep anyway.

This is not the first time I had this nightmare; it's happened so many times I no longer even attempt to keep track. It's usually The Airplane Nightmare, and if it's not that than it's The Andrew Ryan Nightmare, and if it's not that it's The Water Nightmare, and if not that it's The Harvest Nightmare, and if it's not that than it's one of the dozens of other ways my mind tortures me when I most need rest. That last one is the worst: I would endure anything to keep my daughters out of harm's way.

Accepting that I sleep is just not going to happen tonight, I push myself out of my bed. The old wood floor feels like ice underneath my feet but I am just thankful it is dry: I do not like the feel of water on my skin, I do not like it one bit. Even though I have a shower I still prefer to clean myself using a wet cloth; I still flinch and tense up but it's at least something I can manage.

I hear the dim rhythm of tip-tapping against the sliding glass door which separates my room from the patio, and walk over to look at it. When I pull the curtains aside, I can see that the salty sea rain is coming down outside, pitter-pattering against the glass as a large rainstorm rages outside. I can see it past the cliffs: the large grey-blue expanse stretching as far over the horizon as the eye can see (and a few thousand miles more than that!).

I shake my head and look away: the only good memory I have of The Sea is when the Bathysphere reached the surface and my daughters were able to see the sun for the first time in their lives. Even I, who must surely have the Sun before that day, felt an immense combination of awe and relief when I felt it's gentle caress upon my face; I could only speculate on just how amazing it must have appeared to the five Little Sisters I brought to the surface with me.

My daughters.

Back in that Watery Hell known as Rapture, they were physiologically altered and stripped of their free will - like I was. Thankfully I was not forced to cause them harm: I could actually do something about their plight, and I chose to protect them at my own expense. I am not a Guardian Angel, and I am certainly not a Hero - I am just a man who chose kindness over cruelty.

I can honestly say it was the best choice I have ever made.

Staring out at the stormy sea, I sigh in relief that my daughters and I are on the surface. Perhaps now I can give them a normal life, a better one than I had.

My thoughts are interrupted by a small hand pulling at my pajama sleeve. I look down and see Masha, one of my daughters.

"Daddy, I couldn't sleep ... I had a bad dream."

I look hold her hand in my own, and smile gently at her.

"It's ok. I have bad dreams too." Very very bad dreams ... "How about I make you a some hot chocolate. Would you like that?"

Masha nods, "Can Sally have some too? She likes hot chocolat."

Sally already had enough sugar for one night ...

"Sure. In the morning I'll make a cup for her too. I'll even make one for Leta and Susie and Veronica."

Masha shakes her head astonishingly, "Leta doesn't like chocolate! She always puts syrup in her milk!"

"Well then, I'll make Leta a cup of syrup milk."

"And Susie likes coffee."

This time it is my turn to shake my head. "Coffee in the morning gives Susie an upset stomach."

Masha pouts, but she's giggling again when I ruffle her hair with my hand.

Hand in hand, I walked with my daughter down the short hallway from my bedroom to the kitchen. I fill a kettle with milk, heat it up on the stove, and let it heat up. Once it is hot, I pour two mugs -one for Masha and one for myself- and begin to mix the chocolate powder in with a spoon. I will make a second batch for the others in a few hours when they wake up, but right now I will let them have their sleep.

Masha sips at her milk for a few minutes, and soon it makes her feel better. Once she is calmed down, my daughter tells me about her nightmare.

"It was about my parents again. I miss them."

I feel a pang in my stomach. I can still remember the remains of her parents; lying dead on their bed and surrounded by pills. I told Masha that her parents are Angels now, but that's all I told her: she does not need to know they took their own lives. If I ever do tell Masha the whole truth, it will be when she is older and able to understand it.

"It is ok to miss them. They were nice people, and I am sure they are proud of what you have become."

Masha holds my hand.

"Leta said you are an angel, and that you were sent to rescue us. She said she knew it the first time she saw you."

Well, I was sent to Rapture with a purpose, but it was hardly a good one. Rescuing these darling little ones is just the mission I made for myself while I was down there.

"I'm just a man who loves his daughters."

We drink hot chocolate in the kitchen together, chatting until Masha is tired. Eventually she falls asleep in her chair, at which point I gingerly pick her up and carry her to her bedroom. Her sisters are all fast asleep, so I tuck her into bed and pull the blanket over her so she will be warm.

I still can not sleep, so I return to the kitchen and begin to make myself a pot of coffee. There is nothing so rewarding as being a parent.


	2. Chapter 2

When my daughters wake up and walk into the kitchen, I have already prepared a breakfast for them; scrambled eggs, bacon chewy like they like it, golden hashed browns, cups of hot chocolate for Masha and Sally and Veronica, a cup of syrup milk for Leta, and a small cup of coffee for Susie (you try saying no to her when she makes those eyes - it can't be done).

"Now be sure to eat everything on your plate so you can grow up to be big and strong."

Like I need to tell them; my daughters love my cooking. While my cooking is as good as can be expected from someone whose childhood memories were fabricated whole-cloth, as far as my daughters are concerned anything that isn't Rapture Canned Food is the utterly delicious. They even insist that the sardines and anchovies on the surface taste better than those in Rapture (which makes sense, as Rapture was probably a place where the "The Grocer Need Not Fear The FDA").

After they eat, my daughters go into the living room to play with their toys. Leta is drawing pictures with crayons, Sally and Susie are playing hide-and-seek, Veronica is listening to a news report on the radio (apparently the United States is increasing it's military presence in Southeast Asia), Masha's staring outside the window and (probably) cursing her luck that it had to rain last night and make the front yard too muddy to run around in.

The newspaper was probably delivered by now, so I decide to go collect it from the driveway. I tell my daughters where I am headed so they will not worry over my absence.

"I'm going to get the paper. It'll only take a minute."

While the others continue going about their business, Masha jumps up and all but runs to my side.

"Can I come with you?!"

"You are still in your pajamas. You know you have to get dressed before you can go outside."

Masha becomes disappointed, so I try to make it up to her.

"After you're all dressed, I'll take you into town to go bowling."

This pleases all my daughters, and Masha immediately cheers up.

Once outside, I walk down the path from my house to the road. The grass is muddy and covered with last night's rain, and there are still a few residual clouds in the sky. I deeply inhale the air and the pine aroma which the rain stirred up. Every breath of surface air is a blessing as well as a reminder that (for my daughters and I at least) The Rapture Nightmare is over.

It's after I finish inhaling that I notice some people standing in front of me. Specifically, a man and a woman. They were both redheads, and despite being different genders they appeared to be identical twins. They did stir in the cold morning breeze, and their shoes were not even muddied by the ground they were standing on.

But if they're here, I am sure they are here for a good reason. "Why are you two here?"

I did not mean to sound quite so blunt, but they would not be here without a reason and I do not have a good feeling about what that reason might be.

The woman turned to her twin brother and gestured to me. "See? Even he thinks we should have gone with my suggestion."

"Mr. DeWitt and his willingness to sell his daughter has caused enough damage as it is. In any case, Mr. Wynand is much more qualified for this undertaking."

What undertaking?

The woman counters, "Perhaps if she was trapped in Rapture, but rescuing girls from there hardly makes Mr. Wynand equipped for the task at hand."

Needing to get to the bottom of this, I raise my hands and interrupt them. "What are you two talking about?"

This interruption seems to get them down to brass tacks. The woman starts. "We have come here to make you an offer."

They had better not be salesmen ...

Her brother elaborates, "There is a girl who is currently imprisoned in a city much like Rapture."

My heart freezes at the mention of that Watery Hell, and my mind recalls those damp halls and the horrors they held. If this new city is even a little bit like Rapture, than this girl needs to be rescued immediately!

But it is not that simple: I have my own little girls to look after. Five precious rays of sunshine who depend on me to look after them. Masha's parents are doubtlessly dead, and the biological parents of my other daughters are probably dead as well. There is the grim possibility that I might have been forced to kill some of their parents - splicers are not known for listening to reason after all. In any case, I can not risk the future of my daughters, even to save an innocent girl's life.

I am about to decline, but before I can even open my mouth the woman explains what I would get in return: it seems she did not expect me to rescue this girl out of the kindness of my heart.

"Get her out of the city and to us, and in payment we will wipe away your debts _and_ grant you enough money to ensure your daughters never have financial worries again."

My debts and my daughters ... how did these two know about them? I am too shaken to even bother asking.

Of course I am in deep debt. I had to borrow a lot of money to support my five daughters and ensure they have the life they deserve, and finding a job with which to pay off those debts has proven impossible. The conundrum is that I need a job that pays enough to support five daughters, will leave me enough free time to spend with those daughters, and that the only marketable skill I posses is the ability to bludgeon insane drug-addicts to death with a wrench. While I have a few years to repay my debts, I know it is unlikely that I will be able to do so without my daughters having to suffer from me being away long hours at work.

On one hand, this mission could potentially solve all of my problems. If I succeed, than I will have solved my family's financial problems forever. I will be able to care for my daughters for the rest of my natural life, and will still be able to spend time with them.

If I succeed. That is what is on the other hand. It is very possible that I will die on this mission, then my daughters will have lost yet another parent. Brigid Tenenbaum would take care of them if I died, but she already has twenty little girls she has to care for.

And then there is the girl who is imprisoned. What if nobody else will go to rescue her? Then she might end up being experimented upon or eaten by splicers or whatever sick fate her home city has in store.

The two twins wait patiently while I think this over. Finally I make my terms, "I'll do it under one condition: even if I die and fail, you still have to give my daughters the money you would have given me. And I will want four days to get my affairs in order."

The man talks it over with his sister.

"These seem like reasonable terms."

"They are decidedly unreasonable, but if you insist on hiring Mr. Wynand instead of Mr. DeWitt than we have to accept them."

I guess that settles it then. One last mission; one last person I need to save.


	3. Chapter 3

I have spend the last week getting my affairs in order in anticipation for the mission. I dropped my five daughters off with Dr. Tenenbaum and their twenty cousins (the Little Sisters that Tenenbaum is raising as her own daughters), explained my situation to her as best I could (she promised to look after my daughters if I do not return), and wrote out my will.

I also took out a massive and airtight life-insurance policy on myself, to ensure that my daughters will be well off even if I should perish and the Lutece Twins decide not to honor their end of the agreement.

Now the big day has come: do or die.

Right now we are in a rowboat, on our way to a lighthouse which will take me to the city I am tasked with infiltrating. They already took me through something they called a "dimensional tear", so after that a rowboat is a welcome break.

All the while the Lutece Twins -I managed to extract their names on the way over here- banter back and forth as though I was a potted plant.

"Are you going to just sit there?" Robert asked his sister.

"As compared to what? Standing?"

"Not standing: rowing."

"Rowing? Hadn't planned on it." Rosalind handed me a box as she said this. Nodded, took it, and placed it on my lap.

While they continued on, I opened the box so as to see what was inside.

There is a magazine-fed pistol, a large key with a cage on it, five silver coins, two pictures, two pieces of paper, and the same wrench I used to beat my way through Rapture (when I place my hand upon it, it's surface covers with a thin film of frost and static).

The first picture is of a golden statue of what appears to be an angel - complete with large wings. The caption on this picture reads "Monument Island". I can only speculate, but I suspect this island will be where my charge is being held.

The second picture is of a beautiful woman with black hair, probably one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. The caption on this picture reads "Elizabeth". I still know nothing about this picture, but I do know about Rapture and I know that anyone being imprisoned in a place _like_ Rapture needs to be freed urgently. When I turn the picture around, the writing on the back reads "Bring to New York Unharmed." Just in case I did not know where that was (I may have only been born half a decade ago, but I still had the wherewithal to look at a map when I got to the surface!), they included a piece of paper with the Longitude and Latitude on it - 40.7127° N, 74.0059° W.

Finally, there is a piece of paper with a picture of a scroll (x1), a picture of a key (x2), and a picture of a sword (x2). I can not even guess what that's supposed to mean! But I am sure they would not include it if it was not important.

I place all the contents back in the box, which I in turn close to ensure safe keeping. I suspect that all of these things will be important.

Finally a large lighthouse and an old dock leading up from it come into view. "We've arrived." announces Rosalind as her brother pulls the boat up next to the docks.

Tucking the box under my arm to keep it safe, I begin to steadily climb up the latter. At each step I have to breath in and out, all the while reminding myself not to look down. Do not look down at the sloshing waters just a few feet below me. Do not make one slip because if you do you'll fall into the water and it will engulf you and you will be pulled under-

Stop! Just focus on climbing.

When I finally reach the top of the latter and stand on the docks, I gaze up at the lighthouse. It is raining, and my skin bristles with every drop. I am wearing my beige wool sweater for this mission, but it's doing a poor job keeping the rain off of me. The Lutece Twins seem to have prepared for the weather better than I did, as they're both wearing yellow rubber raincoats.

Speaking of which, they have already started rowing away as soon as I got on the docks. I do not blame them: I too want to get out of this storm as soon as possible.

"Shall we tell him when we'll be returning?"

Robert answers his sisters question with one of his own. "Would that change anything?"

"It might give him some comfort."

"At least that's something we can agree on."

Welp, I guess I am on my own. Again.

I step my way from the docks to the stone walkway leading up to The Lighthouse. There are three or four wrecked boats nearby, which I presume were smashed upon the rocks by this storm or a similar one. In any case, they are not as foreboding for me as bathyspheres.

When I reach the timber double doors leading into The Lighthouse, I see a note nailed to it. The bottom left corner of the note is spattered with blood. I take it in my hands and read it.

"Wynand- Bring us the Girl and wipe away the debt. THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE!"

Well fuck. I already knew this mission was important.

I enter poorly lit the lighthouse and the first thing I see is a large metal washing basin on the wooden table propped against the Lighthouse's center column. Above the basin is a large needlepoint, reading "Of Thy Sins I shall Wash Thee".

 _Would You Kindly, Would You Kindly, Would You Kindly-_

Agh! Do not think about that! Stick to the task at hand ...

I continue up to the second floor of the Lighthouse. It appears to be someone's living quarters, complete with a bathtub, a bed, a desk, a radio, an antique telephone, and a map of the continental united states with some sort of pathway marked in red string.

I make quick work of this floor, pilfering it for any silver coins or ammunition I can find. Waste Not Want Not - this line of thinking is what kept me alive in Rapture so long ago. Though before I continue up to the third floor something catches my eye. It is a toy sailing boat, built of wood and even with a cloth sail. I know I have a very important mission to preform, but this boat makes me keep thinking of my daughter Sally. This wooden toy boat is exactly the type of toy she would like; I can already picture her floating it in her bathtub and pretending it is The Santa Maria or The Mayflower (listening to Radio Documentaries with Veronica has helped me to catch up on information regarding The Outside World, as Fontaine did not bother to install more than the basics in my mind).

So that I can continue upwards, I decide to just take the boat. Carefully, I place it in my lockbox with the other supplies. It will be a good memento to remember this journey by when it is done, and I know Sally will like it.

What I see upon reaching the third floor makes me wonder if I have made a Faustian Bargain by accepting the deal with The Lutece Twins. The worst part is that this terrible mistake is my own. I agreed by my own free will, and now I have no idea what kind of sociopaths I am in league with.

A human body, tied to a chair and assuredly deceased. There is a pool of red blood covering the floor and leading up to the gaping bullet hole in his head. To this poor bastard's left is an open box containing an array of disturbing and blood-smeared tools. Upon his chest is pinned a note; it reads "Don't Disappoint Us".

Especially disturbing was the fact that I do not feel any shock; I have seen (and created) too many corpses in Rapture to be fazed by a few more. I know it is still a tragedy, but I do not feel it.

If it belonged to someone I knew, it would be different. I am sure it would.

I climb up the rest of the stairs until I am at the top of The Lighthouse. The rain is blowing in my face and making me tense up, yet I continue onward.

On the door of The Lighthouse's Optic Section is a metal bust of a winged figure holding three bells. One bell has an engraving of a scroll, one an engraving of a key, and the third an engraving of a sword. I guess this is what the card they gave me was supposed to mean.

I ring the bells in the right order, and wait for the results.

The sky suddenly turns red as a massive horn answers back the in the same order as the bells. It catches me off guard, and I do not notice the Optic Section's Lightbulb signaling in the same order yet again. Once more the mysterious horn blares, and soon the door to The Optic Section opens.

This not quite what I was expecting.

The Lightbulb is gone when I again look at The Optic Section, replaced by a metal chair. The chair has obvious arm clamps, so I need to be careful to ensure my box of supplies makes it with me to my destination. I carefully sit down, tuck the box between my legs so as to keep it secure, and place my arms on the metal armrests.

The arm clamps fasten around my arms, restraining them as I expected. However, that is where my expectations end.

Large metal walls rise up around my seat, and a mechanical voice addresses me.

"Make yourself ready pilgrim. The bindings are there to safeguard."

For some reason I do not believe you.

The seat lowers, showing me what looks like rocket boosters. I mentally pat myself on the back for positioning my lockbox of supplies in a safe manner, as they might otherwise have fallen into and been incinerated by the flames.

The seat returns to position, and the prerecorded voice continues.

"Ascension! Ascension in the count of five ..."

I guess I am going up. I do not know how I feel about this; while it is certainly better than going back into The Sea, it is still somewhat less-than-ideal.

Just breath in Jack! You can do this!

"count of four ..."

Remember Jack, people are counting on you.

"... three ... two ... one ..."

You survived Rapture, you can survive this too.

"Ascension! Ascension ... Ascension ..."

Stay calm ... stay calm ... better up than down ... right?

"Five thousand feet ... ten thousand feet ... fifteen thousand feet ..."

This pod I am in rises higher and higher, and I can feel my heart beating faster and faster and faster! I was wrong, up is not better than down! This is it, I'm gonna die here-

Then, the pod breaks free of the storm-clouds. A beautiful floating city, built of architecture reminiscent of a previous century, comes into view. In the center of it is a giant golden statue of an angel, the sun shining overhead to make for it a halo.

"Hallelujah"

After the mechanical voice says this, a parachute seems to come out of the top as the pod begins to float gently down past the buildings and the airships.

Though I can breathe a sigh of relief, I will not let my guard down just yet. After all, Rapture was beautiful when I first saw it too: then I saw what was on the inside and grew to hate it.

But at the very least, I can say that I am not about to die just yet.


	4. Chapter 4

When my pod finally latches onto a building, I hear a metal churning sound as it begins to descend like an elevator. Well, at least I am not at the bottom of the ocean.

As the pod lowers, I see light shining through glass windows and through the holes in the machinery. It appears someone carved slits into the metal support beams, as the light shines through them and literally spells out this city's motto.

'Why would he send his savior unto us ... If we will not raise a finger for our own salvation? ... And though we deserved not his mercy ... he has lead us to this New Eden ... a last chance for Redemption.'

Already I can remember what Andrew Ryan said to me during my descent into the murk. Funny, it was only five or six months ago but it feels like it's been a decade.

 _I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture. A city where the artist would not fear the censor. Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality. Where the great would not be constrained by the small._

A society is only as good as the values it is based upon, and Rapture's values rotted it to the core and stripped its people of their humanity. If that introduction is any indicator, this city's values are vastly different than those or Rapture. However, I can still only guess as to whether or not they are better or worse.

Finally, a large mural comes into view. It depicts a man with a white beard, surrounded by earnest faithful and pointing to a city in the clouds. Above it is a banner which reads 'And the Prophet shall lead the people to The New Eden.'

No Gods or Kings. Only Man.

It is finally when the pod comes to a halt that the door opens and the restraints on my arms release me. It is here that I behold with horror the first obstacle I must traverse in this strange city.

The chamber is filled with water. Horrible, Icy, Damp, Horrible water.

I can already feel my skin bristling up and my form trembling in fear. I attempt to breathe in, but my breaths become faster and faster as my body covers with sweat and my vision begins to blur.

Come on Jack! You can do this you can do this you can do this ...

Hesitantly, I step into the water and begin to trudge my way towards the door in the hopes of finding some dry land to stand on. A statue of the old man on the mural stands in the hallway, arms outstretched in welcome. I slosh around it, past the two wet shrines to the left and the right. Past the man in the white robe whose head is bent in prayer. I head strait for the (thankfully) dry stairs.

I am careful not to slip and break my neck on these stairs, though my heart sinks when I realize that the chamber they lead to is also flooded with water. Even so, I press on because if I do not I will never get out of this watery place. Already my skin is bristled and I have to rub my fingers against my thumbs to distract myself from this horrible horrible water.

Why did it have to be water?!

At the bottom of the spiral staircase I find a large flooded hall. Great marble columns support the high ceiling. Stone angels standing atop these columns reach out together, forming archways with their arms.

There is so much horrible water here that I am convulsing with terror. Tears are welling up in my eyes, as a wash of anxiety floods over me and deprives me of my senses. I am ashamed; ashamed of myself for being afraid of water, ashamed of myself for having agreed to this suicide mission.

Ashamed of myself for being an unhuman freak grown in a lab for the sole purpose of carrying out an assassination! Soon I collapse into a weeping huddle.

 _OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod ..._

I have no idea how, but after an amount of time I can not measure I end up past a crowd of white-robed worshipers and in front of a preacher. The preacher is wearing a black robe and appears to be on the older side. When he notices me, he says this.

"Is it someone new? Someone from The Sodom Below, newly come to Columbia to be washed clean before Our Prophet, Our Founders and Our Lord?"

Nothing can ever wash me clean. No matter what he does, those people on the airplane will still be dead.

But by this point I would do anything to get out of this water, so I stammer out such a request. "I - I just - I just want to go into the city ..."

"Brother the only way to Columbia is through rebirth in the sweet waters of baptism. Will you be cleansed brother?" He holds out his hand as though to literally lead me, so I walk forward.

Might as well get it over with ...

I am so tensed up that I am forgetting to breathe and will surely suffocate. The idea of him pooling water in his hands and dripping it over my head terrifies me beyond reason.

If only I was so lucky. Instead, the preacher places his hand over my face and pushes me all the way under the water!

I struggle, thrash, and do everything in my power to get back above; it is of no use as the people gathered around the preacher all place their hands upon me to keep me under! My heart is beating so rapidly that I seriously fear it will burst, and my lungs strain as air comes out of me but does not go back in.

HELP! HELP! I'M DROWNING! HELP!

I am by this point thrashing wildly, and soon they grab my hands and legs to keep be still.

Before I black out, I have one coherent thought.

It tastes like Rapture ...


	5. Chapter 5

I am back in the dark metal pit again, the one at the bottom of The Atlantic. The one I was unfortunately born in.

Standing in front of me is Masha, my daughter. Her eyes are glowing fully yellow, and her skin is as pale as that of a corpse. This is because I had not yet cured her and adopted her as my own.

At the sight of me, Masha cowers in fear and loudly ventilates with obvious mortal terror. Given that everyone else in this hellhole is attempting to disembowel her, I would say Masha is justified in this fear.

The voice of Atlas, a man who was my captor and whom I erroneously thought my friend, came from my Service Radio.

"It's ok, lad. That's not a child, not anymore it ain't. Dr. Tenenbaum saw to that."

Everything Atlas said was a lie; even his name was falsehood. So it is no surprise that he would tell me this sweet little girl standing before me is anything but an innocent child.

Dr. Tenenbaum _was_ behind the creation of The Little Sisters, but by this point she realized what she had done and was working to right her wrongs.

"Bitte, do not hurt her! Have you no heart?" I had a heart, but what I did not have was free will. By simply using a three word phrase, I could have been coerced into doing anything no matter how vile.

"Aye, that's a pretty sermon coming from the ghoul who cooked up them creatures in the first place. Took fine little girls and turned them into that, didn't you?" After taunting Tenenbaum over her past mistakes, Atlas then addressed me.

"Listen to me, boyo: you won't survive without the Adam those ... things ... are carrying. Now, Would You Kindly harvest her already?"

 _No! Nononononononononononononononononono! Please NO!_

But against my will, my body steps closer and closer to Masha as she cowers in a corner. Though I struggle with everything I have, it is no use as my body ignores my pleas.

 _Please! I don't want to do this! I don't want to do this ..._

With my left hand, I pick Masha up as she struggles for her life. I lift my other hand up as she screams-

* * *

And with a jolt, I awaken from this nightmare. Fortunately, mercifully, I awoke before the harvesting. Most times, my dreams drag me through every horrid detail of the harvesting and I usually end up crying after this dream for hours.

Thankfully, Atlas did not force me to harvest those sweet little girls. But if he had been inclined, he could have uttered three words and I would have been powerless to stop myself from ripping a slug out of an innocent child's stomach. Would You Kindly compelled me to beat my father to death with a golf club, Would You Kindly compelled me to bring down a commercial flight and kill the ninety three passengers on board.

 _Would You Kindly, Would You Kindly, Would You Kindly-_

I shake such thoughts aside; even if I am an inhuman freak, I am still an inhuman freak with a job to do.

Attempting to get my bearings, I see that I am at the foot of a stairwell leading up from a pool. In that pool are three kneeling men in white robes, saying pious things. In the pool are three statues; I do not pay attention to them as I scramble up the stairs to get away from the wretched water.

I do not know why I woke up on the stairs; perhaps they feared I would again panic if I awoke in the water, perhaps I was fading in and out of consiousness and crawled towards the escape before passing out again. In any case, my sweater is almost dry.

As I make my way to dry land, a man in a white robe speaks to me.

"Our Prophet fills our lungs with water, so they may better love the air."

If that is true, than your Prophet is insane. Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine were both insane ... this Prophet can ask them how feel about people imprisoning the innocent.

I walk past this person, breathing in as deeply as I can. While I am tempted to sit down on the bench and rest in this place, I know I have a job to do. I pat myself to confirm that they did not take away or tamper with my lockbox (they did not), and then I continue through these gardens. Fortunately the pilgrims here are in contemplation or prayer and pay no notice towards me.

When I find a secluded corner of this garden, I sit down on a bench and take my box out. I place the pistol and the wrench both at my side, the coins in my pocket, and I lock the box up once more to ensure everything is where it needs to be.

Now I press forward.

Pushing the doors open, I behold what looks like a town center. All the buildings appear to float atop metal platforms, a large steel gondola lift carries box carts past at zipping speeds, and in the middle of it all is a large stone statue of the so-called Prophet.

But just because the city is not flooding with seawater and rusting away does not mean I am going to let my guard down. If this city is like Rapture, then Elizabeth's life is in immediate danger. I can not fail her, because nobody else is coming.


	6. Chapter 6

As I walk up to the giant statue, I hear various denizens of Columbia make reference to some sort of celebration. Whatever is being celebrated, this will hopefully provide the necessary cover with which to carry out my rescue.

Looming over the square is a giant billboard baring the golden angel of Monument Island. "The Tower Protects The Lamb From The False Shepherd" it reads. This confirms my suspicion: now I really have to find Monument Island.

 _Now would you kindly head to Ryan's office and kill the son of a bitch?_

Do not think like that Jack! This is different: your mind is no longer under control. In any case, you are not here on a hit job. You are here to save a life.

And to bring it to The Lutece Twins. That is the problem: I honestly do not know if I can or should trust them. They tortured and murdered a man in cold blood, just to send me a warning. How do I know they do not mean to do the same thing to Elizabeth once I hand her to them?

Jack, you have to finish the mission. Your daughters are depending on you! Cross that bridge when you come to it.

Placing my internal anxiety aside, I make my way down the streets and try to avoid drawing attention to myself. If it was not for the danger both Elizabeth and I are in, it would actually be a pleasant day. The sun shines brightly from a cloudless sky, children play merrily with a busted fire hydrate, a father carries his son upon his shoulders, people enjoy their lunches from outdoor tables, and an odd mechanical horse pulls a colorful red cart and the rider inside. In a way, I wonder if Rapture was like this before everything went to hell; before the collapse did children laugh and play in the streets there as well?

You saw how Rapture treats its children; never forget that!

When I reach the edge of the street, I find that the road onward is literally not connected. A man in a police officer's uniform is stands in front of a red Level Crossing gate, ensuring nobody tries to cross (you'd think the fifteen-thousand-foot-drop would have been deterrent enough, but it is possible that some poor bastard has fallen to his death attempting to jump the gap).

On bloated air balloons, propelled by what appears to be windmill fans, are three wooden floats bearing images of this city's leader. Ok, even Andrew Ryan didn't throw parades for himself while he was still alive (at least I don't think so). Whoever this Comstock man is, it's quite clear he's a Grade-A Egotist.

As drums beat rapidly, the booming voice of an unseen announcer describes each float.

"After the victory at Wounded Knee, the Angel Columbia did present herself to Father Comstock, and show him a vision of the future!"

This is how the announcer describes the first float, which shows an angel in flowing white robes appearing before Comstock. Just to ensure that even the most dense observers got the message, the words 'A Vision Of A Great City' were plastered on the side of the float beneath the imagery.

"And so Our Prophet lead the people away from The Sodom Below. Up, up into the city, where they created An Even More Perfect Union!"

This image is Comstock pointing to a city in the clouds. Not really getting 'humility' from this. But what crazy city would be complete without irrationally paranoid hatred of those living on the surface.

"But it was The Miracle Child, the lamb, that is the future of this city. For The Prophet said that she in the tower will lead The Sodom Below into Righteousness!"

Right at this moment my blood boils over. Elizabeth is as much a slave here as I was in Rapture. Now it is no longer a matter of simply putting bread on the table; now I am personally invested in setting her free. I will help Elizabeth win her freedom, just as others helped me win my own.

The drawbridge opens up, the Level Crossing Gate opens up, and the police officer gives us leave to continue onward. "All clear. Good luck at the raffle folks."

I make my own luck.

With my heart resolved and my mind sharp, I head through the streets. Though I feel as though I am sticking out like a sore thumb, nobody seems to pay much attention to me. It seems with all the commotion surrounding the fair, a man in a sweater carrying an electrified wrench can go unnoticed.

I only stop to scavenge. I pilfer coins from the floor, from unguarded wallets, and from anywhere else this city's currency can be found. Resourcefulness is one of the things that saved my life in Rapture, and if all goes well it will save my life in Columbia. If not, I still have my Wrench.

After looting a grocer's donations box (it was protected only by an honor system - while I am sure it is for a good cause, the fact is that I need the money more), I come across a large poster on the side of the building. It depicts a figure in a black robe, guiding a lamb down a path leading away from the Monument Island Statue. The words read "The False Shepherd Seeks Only To Lead Our Lamb Astray".

 _We all need ADAM... and we all need the Little Sisters ..._

Unimaginable evils become reality when the individual is sacrificed for the perceived good of group. But this poster is right: I have every intention of leading Elizabeth away from this flying deathtrap.

I head onward, cold with resolve.

During this whole time, a bell ringing in the distance causes my heart's beating to accelerate. I do not know how these people deal with conspirators like myself, but throwing them off a ledge to the splatter on the surface fifteen thousand feet below is not out of the question.

It is when I finally pass under a marble archway that I see it.

Looming over the entire city is the statue, wings outspread and gaze unwavering. This tower must be Monument Island, this tower must be where I can find Elizabeth.

Now I just need to reach it, scale it, find Elizabeth, and escape this flying deathtrap of a city with her in tow. Should be simple enough.

Almost immediately, a young boy runs up to me with a paper card.

"Telegram Mr. Wynand!" he announces as he holds it out for me. "Telegraph for you sir!"

As soon as I take it, he runs away as rapidly as he arrived. I look over the card to see what it says.

"Wynand STOP Do not alert Comstock to your presence STOP Whatever you do, do not pick #77 STOP Lutece"

While I appreciate them warning me in advance, this does not necessarily make me trust them. Atlas helped me survive in Rapture some time ago, but only so he could wedge a knife in by back once my purpose was served. I have no intention of allowing The Lutece Twins to do the same.

Hoping to find a path to Monument Island, I decide to search around the fair.


	7. Chapter 7

When I reach the fairgrounds, the first thing that catches my eye is a closed gate nearby. It is guarded by two officers, but I might as well try through there. After all, it might lead directly to Monument Island!

When I approach, the two guards look at me with mild curiosity. I hope they do not become suspicious enough to arrest me; that might make rescuing Elizabeth somewhat difficult.

"Excuse me sir, can I pass through here?"

One of the guards shakes his head. "Streets closed for your saftey. They're prepping for tonight's fireworks show."

I know what fireworks are, but I do not remember having ever seen them before. The pseudo memories Fontaine put in my mind involve some basic information but few concrete memories. I only have a handful of milestones (first steps, tenth birthday, etc) with nothing but darkness inbetween. Even my fake memories are clearly different than my real ones; little details do not fade in and out at moments the way they do with real memories.

The other guard, oblivious to my pondering, makes a quip. "There's enough TNT back there to blow Peking to Kingdom Come. _Again!_ "

"What happened at Peking?" Also, where _is_ Peking?

The first guard laughed at this, apparently finding my knowledge gaps entertaining. "Hah! You MUST have been living your whole life under a rock!"

Well, that's not quite true: I have actually been living my whole life under an Ocean. Though the distinction is probably just hair-splitting ...

The guard continues, "Ol'Comstock sure put those uppity ching-chongs back in their place!"

I have no idea what any of this means, but based on what I know about him already it is reasonable to conclude that Comstock probably did something horrible to someone innocent ... again. All the more reason this rescue HAS to be successful.

Nodding, I head back into the fairgrounds in search of a route through there.

The first thing that catches my eye is a salesman on a stage advertising boisterously to twelve or so people gathered around. Above the stage is a giant billboard depicting a smartly dressed man shooting an Electro Bolt into a lightbulb. Next to him are big bold words that read; A LIFE WITH VIGOR IS A LIFE THAT'S BIGGER!

"If I told you a man could shoot lightning from his hands would you believe me?"

Yes, I actually would believe you.

"If I told you a man could hoist a one ton stallion strait into the air, would you believe me?"

Yes. At this point in my life the ability to do those things are no longer unbelievable.

The man continues, "Well friends I am here today to tell you those are no flights of fancy! Those are no tall tales told behind the pool hall! No sir! No Mam! Those are VIGORS I'm talking about, brought to you courtesy of Mr. Jeremiah Fink himself."

Standing at either side of the stage are two men dressed in costumes, preforming demonstrations with their Vigors: they are reminiscent of hideously deformed splicers. It appears that Columbia has unlocked the secrets to Plasmids. Nobody in the city looks like a Splicer yet, I do not see any tortured little girls drinking the blood of the dead, and I do not see any disfigured metal protectors. It is possible that Plasmids ... err Vigors ... were only recently introduced, or that this society gets the necessary ADAM without ripping sea slugs out of the stomachs of innocent girls.

"Who amongst you has tasted the divine gift of vigor?"

I have.

"One swig, and feats of wonderment are at the tips of your fingers!"

Plasmids allowed me to summon fire, ice, and electricity at will. Yet the best power Plasmids have ever given me is the power to cure The Little Sisters.

"You know our Prophet is fair!"

I started having my doubts around the time I learned he kept young women locked up in towers ...

"You know our Prophet is kind!"

He's kind alright; kind of a megalomaniac.

"And he has asked, personally asked Mr. Jeremiah Fink, to bring you these amazing wonders! Praise be to our prophet, and praise be to our fair city."

Yeah, sure; and it is just a coincidence that you never claimed they were free. This Prophet is selling Vigor-Plasmids to make money, not because he has a good heart. Even in the sky, this city is shackled to The Great Chain.

Leaving this man behind, I walk to the hotdog stand. I have not had a bite to eat in twelve hours (or at least what feels like that), and my stomach is growling incessantly. Unfortunately it is unmanned, so I will have to wait before I can get some food in me. At least I will not have to eat stale brine-flavored potato chips or moldy creme-filled cakes.

"Young sir, young miss! Roll up and try the amazing power of Bucking Bronco! Whether you need it lifted, lofted, tossed or tumbled Bucking Bronco is just the ticket!"

I turn around and see another over-excited salesman pitching Plasmids, only this time he is standing on a soapbox in front of a fair stall. The sign over the stall reads 'Cast Out The Devil'. I would not be surprised if this and the first salesman were related.

I walk over to him and pick up the bottle on the stall's counter. This is an goldenrod bottle with a cap in the shape of a horse.

"Well, give it a try!"

I drink it, and feel little-to-no effect. I guess it is only a sample; perhaps the the new genome additions reverse themselves after a small amount of time (Tenenbaum's attempts to explain genetics to me might have gone better if I did not have so many knowledge gaps).

I try to play this game, but accidentally shoot a Sonic Boom. The devil gets flung against the back wall and bangs his head. Fortunatly he is not knocked out or killed, though he does appear a little dizzy when he gets up.

The salesman reigns in his surprise with remarkable patience. "Face your palms _down_. There, like that. That's the ticket."

I try again, facing my palm down instead of forward, and I am able to lift the devil into the air with my Bucking Bronco plasmid. I do this two more times in a row, and the salesman gives he twenty silver coins as a prize.

As I walk away from this stall, I see another one nearby. This stall is called "Bring Down Sky-Line Vox", and features shotguns fixed to the counter so as to shoot at the wooden figures that move across the wall. Standing next to this stall is another loud salesman on another soapbox.

"Those Dirty Vox' are at it again! See those villains zipping around spreading their lies and dissent?! Fear not: I got just the cure! Grab a shotgun and go to work. You there," he says pointing at me, "you got what it takes to keep our city safe? Yeah, now take aim and blast those evil Vox out of the sky. Hit enough and I'll get you a prize."

I do not know who the Vox he is referring to are, what their beliefs may be, or why they are dissenting. I can reasonably guess that they dislike one or more of Comstock's policies, but for the here-and-now all they mean to me is that I can get money for shooting wooden cutouts of them.

When I pick up the shotgun, it feels familiar in my hands. Bars along the wall pull wooden caricatures from one side of the wall to the other, and every time I pull the trigger they explode into splinters. After mowing down throngs upon throngs of splicers in Rapture, using a gun to shoot targets no longer gives me a feeling of power. Now I feel nothing at all, as though placing my finger on a trigger causes me to enter automatic mode.

But I am getting all of the Vox Carvings, and the soapbox guy is cheering me on. Afterwards, he too gives me some coins as a prize.

The stall that I win coins at is called "Hunt Down the Vox". Like the previous shooting game, this essentially boils down to shooting wooden Vox caricatures.

"Who will take arms against the monstrous heathens? Save the day and win a prize!"

The promise of money, and the opportunity to practice with a firearm after being rusty for half a year, is enough to drag me in. I walk over to the counter and pick up an empty rifle.

The salesman for this stall supports my decision. "And here's a brave fellow! Shoot the Vox as they appear! Bag enough and you'll win a prize. I'll even throw in a bonus if you bag the anarchist, Daisy Fitzroy!"

I still have no idea who either Daizy Fitzroy or the Vox Populi are, and right now I do not care. I am here to rescue Elizabeth; once I have her we'll head to New York and leave this flying Rapture behind forever.

 ** _BANG! BANG! BANG BANG BANG! BANG!_**

After a few well-placed shots, all the targets have been hit. True to his word, the stall manager gives me money for hitting more than anyone else. He even gives me a few extra coins for hitting the one shaped like Fitzroy.

"A magnificent display of Marksmanship! The Vox defeated, Daizy Fitzroy slain; you sir shall be richly rewarded."

These coins will come in handy should I ever come across a "Circus of Value" or similar vending machine.

In the fair, there are also displays for the technological advancements of this city. The Sky-Line cart and the Electric Horses I skip over, as I have already seen them and can understand the gist of how they work. However, there are two more technological oddities that I am less familiar with.

The first is something that looks like a record player. The booth-keeper sees that my attention has been caught and proceeds to draw me in further. "Voxophones! Voxophones! Hear your voice from the past in the present!"

I walk over to the Voxophone on the booth's table, looking at it. On closer examination, I can see it looks very little like a record player. This - this voxophone- has a more lopsided disposition. I whistle, and hear the record play back that whistle.

"There you have it! A personal record of voice!"

Evidence that technology can go in reverse.

"Like a tape-recorder?" It is an honest inquiry on my part, but the booth-manager looks at me as though I was a drunk.

"A what?"

Shaking my head, I mutter "never-mind" and leave this stall. I do not have time to explain what a tape-recorder is, especially since he might not even know they exist.

All throughout this fair can be heard the twangy song that the band is singing. It is kinda jarring to hear singing that isn't a recording of a dead man's voice. Nice, but kinda jarring too.

The next thing I see disturbs me.

A body of metal with a human's head on top, three times the size of a regular man and at least twice as tall as a Big Daddy, stands on a stage while on-lookers gawk on for their own amusement. This metal man is cowering in terror in spite of his size, making it clear he does not want to be here. If this metal fellow is anything like a Big Daddy, then it is a safe bet that he was turned into this against his will.

Wanting to be anywhere else, I head over to the green booth in the shaded corner of the fairgrounds. There a woman is holding a basket with green bottles in them.

"Dear friend," she says, addressing me, "have you ever lost a penny in a vending machine?"

I nod yes, as I distinctly remember that Rapture's Vending Machines were notoriously unreliable and priced at extortionate rates.

"Has a pay phone ever refused to connect you with a beloved spouse?"

None of the payphones in Rapture ever worked, but even if they did I am not sure who I would have called.

"Well, it's time to take back control from the men of metal."

I already know how to hack machines, but either way I am intrigued. If there's a faster or easier way to go about it than I'm all ears.

"With Possession, YOU are the master. You will bend any machine to your will."

Ah ... so it's a Plasmid. Or a Gene Tonic.

Either way, I grab a free sample from the basket and down the bottle. The liquid tastes horrible, and I hallucinate for a few seconds, but both of those are expected side effects. I do not even pay attention to the hallucinations anymore: they kinda loose their shock after the first plasmid.

I down a complimentary vial of "Salts" (EVE) to keep my Plasmids charged, nod thanks to the lady for the free Vigor (Plasmid), then head over to the gate to enter the raffle area.

The ticket teller is a mechanical man. He is one of those robots who appears just enough like a human to be creepy while falling well short of being convincing. Still not as ugly as a Splicer though.

When I approach him, he shakes his metal head. "Sorry pal, The Raffle is all sold out."

Time to see if my newest Plasmid works. I shoot a green cloud out of my arm and it fills the machine up. It immediately opens up one of the gate doors and waves me in with a whirl of the arm.

"Well, if it isn't Assemblyman Buford! Your spot at the raffle awaits. Don't know why I didn't recognize you before. How odd? Always good to have a gentleman of your caliber at our fine fairgrounds."

With Possession, I am the master.

Now to get past the raffle, reach Monument Island, find Elizabeth, then get her back to New York and away from her captors ... somehow.

I stop in my tracks as soon as I pass the gate's threshold, stanced for defense.

Standing in front of me are my two employers.


	8. Chapter 8

It would not be accurate to say that The Lutece Twins were the last people I wanted to see: Frank "Atlas" Fontaine, Andrew Ryan, Zachery Comstock, Doctor Steinman, and Sander Cohen all come _well_ before The Lutece Twins on the list of people I look forward to never seeing again.

But more importantly, how the hell did these two get all the way from the lighthouse to Columbia such a small amount of time? Shouldn't they be in New York, to receive the person I'm trying to rescue? Why did they even hire me?! If they could get into Columbia, then they could easily rescue Elizabeth themselves! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?! WHY -

Keep it together, Jack. Now, take a deep breath. Good.

Once I am calm, I can see that the man is wearing a sandwich board chalkboard and his sister is holding a plate ... for some reason. On it is a t-chart with twelve tally marks on the "heads" side and precisely zero on the "tails" side; that shouldn't be possible, because coin flips are always 50/50 (Sally taught me that one!).

"Heads ..." the man asks as he tosses me a coin.

"Or tails?" finishes his twin sister as I catch it.

I am debating which is creepier, them finishing each other's sentences or the fact that they both appear utterly dispassionate. Were they they like this when they tortured and murdered that poor man in the lighthouse? Why isn't there any blood on their suits?!

Then it dawns on me: they want me to flip the coin ...

Yep: these two are gonna stab me in the back.

These twins are probably just toying with me, either to derive some sick pleasure or to unnerve me. Well damn them! I fully intend to rescue Elizabeth and get her out of here safe and sound ... well, assuming there IS an Elizabeth (if Elizabeth turns out to be like Atlas's "wife" Moria and his "son" Patrick, then I am going to be very displeased!)

"Tails."

Glaring coldly at the two, I place the coin on Rosiland's plate without flipping it: I make sure to lay the coin so the "Tales" side is facing up.

 _A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys!_

Telling me this is the only thing my biological father told me that was even remotely helpful ... and I suspect it was the only thing the dead bastard ever got right.

I walk around them in a huff, and can hear them discussing whether or not to count it.

"Should we count it?"

"Well it did come up tails."

Past the gate the rode takes a sharp right turn. Overlooking the turn is a veranda, and on the corner at the streets are two girls playing hopscotch. Watching them makes me remember with sadness my own daughters back home, and how I might never see them again.

This melancholy dissipates very quickly however, when I actually start paying attention to what they are saying.

"Songbird, Songbird, see him fly. Drop the children from the sky. When - the young ones - mis-be-have… Es-corts chil-dren to-their-grave… Ne-ver - back-talk - ne-ver - lie… Or-he'll-drop-you-FROM-THE-SKY!"

Holy. Crap.

At this point, it will be more surprising if throwing people to their deaths fifteen thousand feet below ISN'T this city's favorite form of execution. I stand tensed for a few minutes, rubbing my hands together nervously. Up in the veranda, two women are whispering about me.

I had better get moving if I am to reach Monument Island.

I start walking down the street and find a large poster of a giant metal pidgin. The bolded words around it say "Sing praise to The Songbird, for he is the protector of The Lamb". Yeah, the knowledge that Elizabeth is being watched by something that "drops the children from the sky" somehow leads me to believe that Columbia might not be the best place for her. Though that can be said of any place that is like Rapture.

"Irene good night. Irene goodnight Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I'll see you, in my dreams!" I don't know who is singing it, but my gut tells me that whoever it is will be at the raffle.

As I walk down the street, I pass a group of citizens talking about someone called "Lady Comstock" (presumably the woman seen standing next to Comstock in the parade float imagery) and I see two law enforcement officers looking at a hook-like weapon and cackling about how they'll get to kill Vox Populi with it.

"Irene good night. Irene goodnight Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I'll see you, in my dreams!" I walk closer to the raffle, closer to the singing, closer to Monument Island and the beautiful woman imprisoned inside.

I only stop when I see a flickering stone statue on the side of the road. I walk closer to it, and see that it is a statue of Rosalind Lutice ... but I coulda swore that it was a statue of her brother Robert before it started flickering. Admittedly, I could just be going insane.

The inscription under the statue says "R. Lutece, gave Columbia her wings", which obviously refers to the buoyancy of the city (still have no idea why Columbia is able to fly). That means that she and probably her brother worked for Comstock in the past (if they don't already).

If the Lutece Twins think they can pull an Atlas on me then they're in for a surprise!

"Irene good night. Irene goodnight Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene I'll see you, in my dreams!"

The singing continues as I leave the statue behind and walk further down the street, but I do not make it more than twenty steps before I am stopped in my tracks once more. A large sign in the middle of the road bares a picture of a hand. That hand is facing palms up. The message under the poster: "You shall know the False Shepherd by his mark!"

On the wrist of the poster's hand is a clear tattoo of a chain. Just like the chain tattoos on my wrists.

How did Comstock know I was coming here? This is bad! This is very bad!

Calm down Jack ... nobody's seen your wrists yet, and if you are quick then they will not be likely to. You made it through Rapture when everyone there was trying to kill you: you can survive Columbia too!

Ready to continue, I headed onward down the streets and through some small parks until I finally found the source of the music.

A crowd of nearly one or three hundred was gathered around a massive stage. Atop the stage was Jeramiah Fink, whose image is almost as plastered across this city as that of Comstock. Just like in the posters, he is wearing a suit and a top hat. Mr. Fink was leading the crowd in this song, riling them up for an exciting and festive event.

Each and every person in this raffle is holding a baseball with a number on it; you'd think tickets would suffice.

After he finishes the last verse, Mr. Fink begins the raffle. "And now, the 1912 Raffle has officially begun!"

... 1912? He should have said 1960, that's the year it actually is. Right? Well, at least that's the year all the calenders in Rapture were flipped to; at this point I honestly can not decide which city is telling the truth. Maybe neither, maybe both.

It doesn't matter what year it is, Jack! Just get Elizabeth to New York, and then you can find out what year it is!

I attempt to sneak behind the crowd, but evidently someone spotted me.

"Hey Mister! Mister!" Damn. Just a few more seconds and I'd be through.

The person who called out to me was a woman holding a large basket filled with baseballs. This must be where everybody else got theirs.

Guessing that it's for the raffle, I pick up the first baseball on the pile. I turn it around and see the number painted in red on the other side.

 **77.**

The woman smiles."That's a lucky number. I'll be rooting for you."

No, I can NOT pick 77. The Luteces told me not to, and even if they're planning to backstab me my gut tells me I should.

I hand the ball to a man standing next to me and stammer a plausible justification. "Actually ... uhh ... I think I'll just watch this time around."

I find a spot in the audience and wait patiently for it to be over so I can head to the tower so Elizabeth and I can get out of her ... assuming there _IS_ an Elizabeth, of course. I can see another man picking up the raffle ball; whatever, let him have whatever it is.

Jeremiah Fink reads from the paper excitedly, and announces the winner. "All right then ... the winner is ... number 77!"

The man who took my discarded baseball looks at it and becomes downright giddy with anticipation. "Oh boy! I finally won one!"

"FIRST THROW! FIRST THROW! FIRST THROW!" The crowd started chanting this wildly as the red curtain behind Fink rose. It revealed a man and a woman, tied to posts and squirming in mortal terror. There are wooden cutouts around them, but I am too taken aback to notice background objects.

The man, a light skinned person, begins pleading. "Please! Please, you don't have to do this!" The audience just laughs, prompting the condemned man to beg further. "Please! It was me, it was all me! Please!"

It's clear he doesn't care what happens to him, just so long as the dark skinned woman tied next to him survives. I suspect she might be his bride.

The mob chants grow louder, and I can tell that as soon as the first person throws his baseball all the others will as well until the couple is dead.

Think Jack! If I sneak past during the throwing, I can reach Monument Island. I can-

"STOP!" ... fuck me.

The person chosen to throw first stops mid-swing, and the entire audience turns to stare at me. Why did I choose to draw attention to myself? If this is a crowd of splicers then I'm beyond screwed.

I clear my throat and begin to speak. "Whatever these two did, they don't deserve to be stoned. This isn't just. It isn't right!"

This causes gasps and shouts of ridicule to break out among the would-be lynch mob.

Jeremiah Fink glares down at me, as though I were a but in want of squashing. "Comstock says miscegenation's to be punished by death, boy!"

"Well Comstock's wrong then." By the time I realize how bad an idea it is to say this, it is too late and the words are already out of my mouth.

"Don't you know that's something only a back-stabbing snake-in-the grass Vox Populi? Well we ain't lettin' no dirty vox into our flock. Show him what you have planned boys!" As he says this, one guard stands behind me while the other gets out the hook-gun and starts spinning it.

Diplomacy failed; now I have a fight on my hands.

Before he can rip my skull to shreds, my left hand is already conjuring up a blue flame. With a single flick of the wrist, I have shot a blast of Level 3 Incinerate! at the Officer. He and several of the raffle participants are engulfed by the ball of Plasmid Fire I sent their way, and start screaming and flailing in agony as they burn alive. Their entire bodies are covered by the flames, and I can feel my heart beating faster as I watch their immolation.I do not feel any more pity for them than I did for the Splicers in Rapture; if you are the type of person who stones people to death or drinks the blood of children then you frankly deserve to spend your last moments roasting in panic.

Once these fifteen or so people finished burning, there is little more than ash and bones left of them. The Incinerate! burned through their clothes, their skin, and finally their muscles. And it reduced all of this to ashes within merely a few seconds.

I look around and see that everyone else has fled. There is no sign of Fink, the condemned couple, or the other raffle goers. Instead, there are only angry and violent Columbia Police Officers.

I pick up the spinning hook gun and fasten it to my side in case I need it later. Then I draw out the pipe wrench that served me in Rapture.

Looks like I have a fight on my hand.


	9. Chapter 9

Immediately I am charged at by two Officers wielding nightsticks. They are both snarling, angry, and there appears to be no chance of them listening to reason.

Time to do what I was made for.

The first officer swings down so as to knock me on the shoulder. I sidestep so his nightstick passes harmlessly through the air. Then, the Twelve Inch Pipe Wrench that so faithfully served me in Rapture, I swung at his head with all my might. I have sixty Gene Tonics inside of me, and only eighteen can ever be active at a time; six of those eighteen work to make my wrench swing even deadlier than twelve inches of metal normally would be. This sorry bastard's skull caves in immediately, and the rest of him flies several feet back before skidding across the grass of the raffle field.

When the next officer charges at me, I don't even let him miss. Instead, I strike before he can raise his nightstick. I knock him in the jaw, just about taking his head off.

I really want to avoid being swarmed just yet, so I look behind me to see if escape is possible.

It is not. The gate leading into here is closed.

Dammit! I have to push forward and hope for a better escape route.

I run out of the clearing towards Monument Island, but the four more officers block my path. Behind them, I can see the drawbridge to the island closing and with it the most direct route to Elizabeth ... I will have to find another way.

The first two officers are charging me with nightsticks. To depose of them, I shoot from my hand a burst of Electro Bolt 3. Immediately they become covered in the electricity and start shaking uncontrollably. I knock one of them in the chest with my wrench, causing an audible crunch as it slams into and cracks his rib cage. Next I kick the other in the midsection, landing my heel right in his stomach. So shocked were they both that minor blows were enough to end them.

When the third officer tries attacking me, I throw a shot of Winter Blast 3 at him. He covers with ice within an instant, and is utterly incapacitated. I push him over with my hands, and when he hits the ground he shatters and is dealt with for good.

The forth officer, rather than charge me with a nightstick, pulls out a pistol and tries shooting at me. Using Telekinesis 3, I pull a nearby trash bin to me and lob it at the officer. It hits him with a crunch and he goes limp; whether dead or merely unconscious, this officer will not be a threat any longer. I rifle through his pockets and find three silver coins.

When I turn the corner, I find a narrow area full of boxes; this must be the storage area for the raffle. There are two human-sized cages (which probably held the condemned couple), a barrel of fireworks, and a machine that seems to vend Vigors.

Near the end of the storage area is a small air gunship, and no sooner do I reach it than two guard (wielding nightsticks and frothing at the mouth) charge at me. The first one swings at me; I parry his swing with my own and knock the nightstick out of his hand. Using a backhand swing, I hit him in the head with my wrench and he falls.

Using Telekinesis 3, I rapidly lift his body into the air and throw him at his pal. The first guard slams into the second, knocking him out cold.

You have to keep moving Jack. If you don't find a hiding place soon than you'll surely die.

After stopping to get an upgrade for Possession from the vending machine, I head up the ramp and onto the gunship. On the gunship I find some ammunition for my pistol and a medium sized bottle of "Salts" (EVE).

At the end of the gunship is an automatic turret, pointing outwards towards a street area below. Six officers with guns rush up and begin opening fire on me, a lethal mistake on their part.

"For the Prophet!"

I use my Possession on the turret, causing it to glow green and to open fire upon the Columbia Officers. One by one, the six guards are filled with hundreds of bullets.

Jumping down from the gunship, I rush down the streets and leave the turret behind me. Just then eight more guards drop down from the sky-lines above.

"Kill the False Shepherd!" they shout as they pull out their guns and fire upon me. Most of them seem as frenzied as any Splicer of Rapture, but a few of the younger ones shake visably. Perhaps it is their first battle, perhaps they are as afraid as I was when I first came to Rapture.

But that will not be enough to save them.

I first fire off a round of bees. Large bulges appear all over my hands as the yellow pests fly out and converge upon the guards. They immediately panic, some flailing their arms about in an attempt to kill the tiny things and some shooting in random directions. I take cover behind a trashbin, and as soon as I get an opportunity I let loose a storm of Electro Bolt 3. This zaps the guards so much that they convulse wildly. All but two of the guards fall dead from the shock; I finish the last two off by pulling out my pistol and shooting them in the midsection.

I walk over the the corpses and very speedily pick through their pockets. I am able to get a few bullets and a few silver coins by this quick search; valuable resources that might come in handy later on. Pushing forward, I go through the gate at the end of the street.

On the other side of the gate is a much narrower street, lined on both sides by shops and scattered with carts. Three guards wait behind cover, shooting at me as soon as I am in their sight. I dodge behind cover and shoot back, killing one.

One of the guards shouts, "The Fireman's coming! He'll sort out the son of a bitch!"

I shoot an Insect Swarm at one of the guards, causing him to run out of cover to escape from the bees. I shoot him in the leg, causing him to stumble to the ground and clutch his legs. The other guard immediately drops his pistol and rushes over to help his comrade.

"Peter!", the guard exclaims as he frantically attempts to bandage his colleague's wound, "Stay with me Peter! You're gonna make it ..."

While I am tempted to wrench them to death while they are distracted, I decide that neither of them are threats. I walk past the two, stopping only to pick up their discarded pistols and to throw them as far over my shoulder as I can. This should ensure neither of the two tries to shoot me in the back.

I head down the street to another gate, and push it open.

When I am through, the first thing I see on the other side of the gate is a man aflame. He is standing atop a stone flower bed, covered in armor, and his skin is covered in fire.

"FIRE AND FURY!" As soon as he shouts this, he jumps down upon the streets and sends out a small burst of flames in all direction. Already the surrounding buildings and sidewalk trees are crimson with flames.

Two can play at that.

He shoots a flame at me, but I am able to take cover behind some debris. After the fireball has passed, I shoot a burst of Incinerate! 3 at him from my left hand. With my right, I shoot three bullets at him with my gun before loading in a new magazine.

The Fireman lets out an agonized howl, evidently in pain. "YOUR FLESH WILL BLACKEN AND CHAR!"

He shoots fire at my cover, forcing me to dodge away from it. When I do, I fire off three more bullets at the fiery bastard. Finally, I fire one more burst of Incinerate! at the Fireman.

The last burst does him in. He explodes into an eruption of flame and smoke.

I go over to check up on him to see if he is dead. All that remains is a charred skeleton; it's safe to say he's no more. While The Fireman was clearly trying to kill me, I am left to wonder if he was a true enemy or if he was simply a victim of this city. Dr. Tenenbaum told me about how the Big Daddies and the Little Sisters were made, how normal people were deformed and mutilated to serve Andrew Ryan's purpose. I am left to wonder at the desperation in The Fireman's voice. But I do not have much time to reflect, as something on the ground catches my eye.

It is a red bottle, which must have been on The Fireman's person before his end. I recognize a Plasmid anywhere, and _that_ is a Plasmid.

I retrieve the bottle from the ground and chug down the liquid. Like all Plasmids (or "Vigors"), this one tastes horrible. I have a brief hallucination again, but soon am returned to a normal state.

I head down the rest of the street, cast Possession on a nearby turret to prevent it from attacking me, and soon reach the end of it. There is a drop-off, with nothing but a a fifteen thousand foot drop in front of me for a mile. Beyond that I can see Monument Island; so close yet so far.

Monument Island, which holds the key to me getting out of this city alive. Monument Island, which holds the key to me securing the future of my five daughters. Monument Island, which holds the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

It is not over yet Jack; you WILL find a way. A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys!


	10. Chapter 10

When I go to look for cover, the first hiding place I find is a building less than a few feet from where I ended The Fireman. It is a restaurant called "The Blue Ribbon", and the sign outside of it displayed a large pig with a blue ribbon wrapped around it's stomach.

Well aware that I must keep moving, I push open the wooden double-doors and step inside of the building.

Inside I find a waiting room, furnished with two cushioned chairs and a small table. To the side of the wall are three kinetoscopes which claim to tell the history of Columbia.

On the table in the waiting room is a large bottle of that good good blue stuff that allows me to use my Plasmids and Vigors. Without second thought, I pick up the bottle in my hand. I uncork it, put the neck of the bottle to my mouth, and start to drink.

Bottoms up!

The blue nectar that Rapture calls EVE and that Columbia calls Salts tickles my tongue and throat as I suck it down, and I can feel a quickening in my veins and in my heart with every drop. While it does taste syrupy on it's own, this blue liquid also brings back some of the few non-horrible memories of Rapture that I have: healing myself after a hard battle, numbing myself with alcohol during precious moments of peace, and finally playing with The Little Sisters in Tenenbaum's Safehouse in the weeks between Atlas's death and my return to the surface.

There is no pure EVE Topside, so the only way I had to get it was by drinking alcohol (one of my Gene Tonics, Booze Hound, turns alcohol into EVE during blood circulation). There are no Splicers on the surface, but it is better to be safe than sorry. While some might have called this attitude paranoid, the events of the last few hours kinda proves it prudent.

Figuring that it is safe in this place, I decide to look at the Kinetoscopes.

They are very short films, only a few seconds total, but they provide some information on this crazy sky-prison I find myself in. It seems Comstock, like Andrew Ryan, set out to found an isolated city where he could peruse his Utopian vision unimpeded. But unlike Rapture, Comstock did so with the blessing of the outside world and only retreated from it after overstepping his authority during this "Boxer Rebellion".

I still do not know who the Boxers are or why they rebelled. Did they have valid reasons? And if so, did they pursue it with restrained tactics that spared the innocent? Of this and many other things I know nothing, as Atlas decided not to include those facts in the memories he "had tattooed inside my brain". However, that is not the worst of it; as my growth was accelerated, I will never know what it is like to be a child or to have a parent who truly cares for me.

The only thing I know for sure about my brief childhood, based not on memory but on an audio-diary I found while in Rapture, is that Dr. Suchong once used a trigger code to make me snap my puppy's neck against my will. I am forced to wonder what cruelty Elizabeth was subject to. Hopefully she will never know the savagery that I have known, and hopefully I can get her out of here safely.

When I enter the actual dining area of the restaurant, who else should greet me but Those Dammed Twins ...

Dammit! I still don't know what their game is, but I have a strong suspicion that they plan on stabbing me in the back.

As of now they are the only people in the restaurant, aside from an unconscious drunk at the bar. Robert is standing behind the bar, wiping it down with a white cloth. His sister is standing in front of the entrance to the kitchen, holding a plate with a bottle of yellow liquid on it.

"We have company" Robert Lutece stated, his voice cold and calculating as always.

"We do indeed" replied Rosalind Lutece, just as emotionless as her twin brother.

I can NOT take another moment of this.

"Why did you follow me?"

"We were already here." states Rosalind, answering my question without actually answering any questions.

Her brother adds, "Why are YOU following US?"

Really? Did they really just ask that? They really had to fucking ask that, did not they?

Well, now you're getting The Long Answer!

"You really want to know why I am here?!" I ask with a weary voice, one that makes it clear that this isn't nearly as funny for me as it seems to be for them. "I am here because I six months after escaping Hell On Earth two people I've never met before and have no reason to trust hired me to go to another, equally horrible city. Ostensibly this is rescue a woman and take her to New York, but I have no way if my employers are telling the truth! So tell me, why should I trust you? How do I know Elizabeth even exists, or that you aren't having me bring her to New York so you can just suck her blood or rip a slug out of her liver?! How do I know you won't stab me in the back the moment I cease to be useful to you?!"

By now I am frantic; I normally internalize my anxieties and keep them bottled up where others can not see them, and this is exactly why.

In order to avoid outbursting further, I take a deep breath and become silent again. The twins betray no facial expression to suggest how they might feel, but they do pause to think out their answer.

As always, they finish each others sentences.

"We do not Harvest ADAM-" stated Rosalind Lutece matter-of-factly.

"-and we are not going to try to kill you after the mission is complete." finished her brother Robert.

I retort, "You tortured an innocent man to death just to scare me. Was that supposed to convey trust?"

Robert Lutece snorts derisively, "The Lighthouse Guardian was far from innocent. If you knew how many Raffles he participated in, you would have killed him as well."

The Raffle; Columbia must have stoned at least one interracial couple every year since this city's founding. God, why are people so cruel?!

His sister continues. "Heuristic Techniques have failed you in this instance. We can not stop you if you choose to continue to believe the delusion that this is part of an Atlas-esque plot, but if you are a logical person than you should shortly become disabused of such notions in due time."

"If not, then that is your loss."

Now it is my turn to take a pause. Could I have misjudged these two? What if they sincerely have good intentions? It has happens before while I was in Rapture. But that's the problem: I have no way of knowing if The Lutece Twins will be like Atlas or like Tenenbaum.

Rosalind offers a drink. "Aperitif?"

"You'll find it handy in a pinch."

"The difference between life and death."

When Rosalind Lutece offers this, and when her brother encourages me to take it, I squint at the bottle she is holding. It is a bottle with a glowing yellow liquid inside.

That's a fucking Plasmid!

I pick it up and take the cork off. I do not know if this drink is the poison that will end me, but that does not seem as likely. I still don't trust them, but right in this moment them stabbing me in the back seems less likely. Deciding (perhaps foolishly) to place trust in my fellow man, I down the entire substance. It does not taste like ADAM; it taste more like how I image Electric Gel tasting (I do not know the exact taste of Electric Gel, because drinking every chemical in sight is NOT the way to survive in Rapture or anywhere else for that matter).

"Hm, surprising." Rosalind says, though she neither looks nor sounds surprised or for that matter even interested.

"Surprising that it worked?" suggests the less cynical of the two Lutece Twins.

"Surprising that it didn't kill him." corrects the more cynical of the two.

"But a magnetic-repulsive field around one's body can come in handy."

"If it doesn't kill you."

"A fair point."

My mouth twitches slightly as I try to suppress a smile. It would be cruel irony indeed if (after surviving 30 Big Daddies, one spliced Atlas, and all the splicers in Rapture) a Plasmid is what finally put me in the ground.

Rosalind steps aside, and I head through the kitchen. I make my way through the kitchen and the storage room behind it, scrounging any coins that happen to be around.

As I make my way through the storage room, I can hear announcements coming from a gunship outside. It does not appear to notice that I am here though, so I need only let it spew its lies until it passes by.

"Blood in the streets! And worse is the insult because today is the day that marks our succession from the Sodom below."

Sure, _I'm_ the bad guy for interrupting their human sacrifice. The sooner I can complete this mission and be rid of this damn city the better ...

Once I am sure that the gunship has left, I walk out onto the back deck.

There is no drawbridge connecting this building to the ones on the other side of the gap ... but there is a freight hook and balcony on the other side of the gap.

Jack, are you really going to make such a suicidal leap?

Even as I've asked this question I've already gripped my sky-hook and backed up for a running start. Without further thought, I rush forward and jump with everything I have.

"Ahhhhhh!"

I expected my sky-hook to grip the balcony, but instead it immediately rushes to the freight hook and pulls me along. The sky-hook connects to the freight hook with a clank, and I am left hanging by my arm.

I am sure there is some scientific explanation for this, but for now it eludes me. I can find out what it is when people aren't trying to kill me.

I look about my location to see if I can find another location from here (making sure to not look down, of course).

There are five more sky-hooks between me and the nearest rooftop.

Well, no time like the present ...


	11. Chapter 11

After hopping a few freight hooks, I see a flat rooftop that I can land upon. Standing on the rooftop is what appears to be a Columbian Soldier. He is wearing a grey helmet with a matching trench coat, and strapped to his back is a rapid-fire submachine gun.

He is staring into the blue abyss below, his back facing me. This makes the Trooper totally exposed.

Ok Jack, it will be just like a One-Two Punch! You can do this!

I throw myself and my sky-hook off the freight hook with full force, and swinging my left arm forward I ram the spinning sky-hook directly into his unsuspecting spine. It connects with a sickening crunch, and flings him slamming into the wall in front of me. Had he been a few feet to the left, he would have skid off the roof and fallen out of Columbia before landing on the ground a thousand and a half feet below.

Now he lies at the roofs edge, unconscious at best but most likely deceased. I do not feel too bad; he would have killed me readily if given the opportunity.

I scan the rest of the rooftop, and see that there is a swarm of Columbia Soldiers. They don't see me yet, as the dead soldier and I are hidden behind a pile of supplies. I could easily charge forth, guns blazing and kill the rest of the Columbian Soldiers. If I wished to, I could shoot and plasmid to death everyone I encounter from hear to Monument Island and back again.

But that might not be the wisest course of action. I do not know how many of these brutes there are in the city, and I can not afford to bite off more than I can chew. There are no vita chambers in Columbia. If I die, I die and I stay dead. There are no do-overs here.

Of course, I have more weapons at my disposal than my plasmids and my firearms. In Rapture, a clever head has saved me just as many times if not more.

Comstock's thugs will shoot me on sight ... but if they don't see me then I should be able to reach Monument Island unimpeded.

As quietly as I can, I kneel down over the (probably) dead soldier. I begin appropriating from him the clothing I'll need to pass for a Columbian Soldier. His helmet, his army military jacket, his blue army pants, his thick white combat boots, his thick brown gloves, and his brown cartridge belt. Removing these in a silent manner is a painstakingly slow process, but none of the other soldiers come to this area so I am left alone.

Now begins the hard part: putting all of this shit _on_ without making any noise!

First I put on the blue army pants. They are baggy enough that I can wear them over my normal pants, which is good because the wind and temperature at this altitude make disrobing a very bad idea.

Next are the boots: these will not fit over my regular shoes, so I have to remove the latter and store them in my wooden box. My problems do not end there: these new boots are too small for my feet and I can feel them press my toes together. Nothing can be done about this, I just have to bare through it.

After I squeeze my feet into the boots, I have to put on the jacket. Like the pants, this army jacket fits so loosely that I can wear it over my sweater. The extra layer feels kinda warm, but I can tolerate it as long as I need to.

Now that I have my jacket on, I can attach a belt. This belt has a lot of empty pouches around it, which will certainly be helpful. In fact, I am going to transfer some of my items to the belt right now! No more fumbling with a wooden box whenever I need some coins!

I transfer the mysterious key to one pouch, the silver coins to another, the ammunition to yet another, and the pictures and paper to yet another one after that (I'll leave Sally's Toy Boat in the wooden box, as I won't need to take it out until after I am home).

As I am putting the pictures and paper away, I find myself myself stopping when I hold the picture of Elizabeth. I never knew someone could be so beautiful ...

I'll find you, and I'll take you to New York. Nobody's going to force you to break a puppy's neck or to draw ADAM from a corpse, while I have a say in the matter.

Gently, I place the picture in my pouch with the image of Monument Island.

Finally I pull on my gloves. They are slightly itchy, but fit well enough. Them concealing my "mark of the false shepherd" will help, but it comes with a trade off - I can not use Plasmids while wearing these gloves.

Now the moment of truth. Time to see if this disguise works ...

I pick up the soldier's machine gun, and load it with nearby boxes of bullets. The boxes reveal the gun to be called a "Rolston's Reciprocating Repeater", though I am just going to call it a machine gun. This gun's main difference when compared to the machine guns in Rapture is that it's ammunition magazine is a rectangle loaded into the side as apposed to a circle shoved into the guns underbelly. No idea if it works better or worse, but it's better than no weapon. Plus it completes the image, and increases my already slim chance of fooling these thugs into not recognizing me as their False Shepherd.

I walk across the roof, slowly and hesitantly. Some fog has gathered in this roof area, and out of the fog walks a Columbian Soldier. I brace myself, but he does not fire.

"Whoa there! It's just me. No Voxy Foxy up here."

I ease up a bit; the disguise worked!

"Are you all right?" The soldier must be wondering why I am just staring at him.

I nod in response. He nods back, and allows me to pass. I walk past him, and ten of his buddies, and then I reach the edge of this rooftop. The wind is whistling all about me, and I begin to understand why these soldiers wear such thick coats. Why everybody in Columbia does not wear thick coats at all times is beyond me.

Ok Jack, time to evaluate the situation! There are two gunships on either side of this rooftop; one to your left and one to your right. The one on the right is out of the question; it is too high to reach and it has a turret that can blast you to bits in a moment's notice. Wait, shouldn't they both be out of the question? Hmm ... I do not know how to fly one of these things, but I _do_ know that the gunship to the left is close to another rooftop ... but it has a turret as well. Damn ... but nothing a firm smack can not cure. Come to think of it a firm smack can cure most things-

Focus Jack! Ok, you need a distraction ...

And I know what it is. While hiding behind a crate, I spot a big fella covered head to toe in padded armor and wielding a hand cannon. I carefully unbuckle the glove on my right hand, slip it off, and place it into my left. Then I shoot a burst of Posession at the man.

The green cloud leaves my hand, swirling in the wind right over to the target. It envelops him, and immedeatly he lots out a feral howl.

"AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

With this war cry, he begins firing rounds at his own brothers-in-arms. Two are blown to bits, and the rest scurry behind cover.

"Biff's gone rogue! He's one of the Vox!" one Columbia Soldier shouts from behind a corner. As they try to shoot at him, I use my Posession on the two Gunship Turrets. The Turret on the right immedeatly wheels around with a metallic screech and provides supporting fire to the Posessed Trooper.

I do not wait to see who won. I instead bound towards the left Gunship and jump aboard. I shove my right glove back on, and jump from the Gunship to the next rooftop as bullets and curses ring out behind me.

On the rooftop lie two dead Columbia Soldiers. Their bullet-riddled corpses imform me that the turret I posessed from the left gunship caught them off guard as well (as well as the dozen dead pigeons lying around them). Without hesitation or reverence, I begin to loot their corpses. Digging through their pockets yield more bullets and more silver coins.

From there I see a Freighthook hanging off the side of another building, providing me the means to reach a balcony that would normally be out of jumping range.

With a running start, I lunge for the freight hook with skyhook in hand. With a jolt the two hooks grab each other and suspend me in the air directly over oblivion. Looking anywhere but down, I swing myself forward towards the balcony.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I land with a stumble, and that stumble turns into a roll as I tumble forward. Eventually the extra momentum is burned off and I can breathe easy. At least for now.

The balcony I am on is a large stone one, with lots of lunch tables scattered around it. Monument Island - Elizabeth - is so close I am literally standing in it's shadow.

I can rest when I am in New York. For now I keep moving forward!

I find a pair of double doors, and push them open. They lead to a small kitchen room. Connected to the kitchen on the left is a large pantry with shelves filled with various foods, to the right is a wooden door, and on the wall of the kitchen directly in front of the door is a poster.

The poster depicts a dark-skinned man on one knee, holding his hands up in a pleading manner. Above this image are the words _"A Meeting of The Columbia Friend To The Negro Society - July 9, 1912"_ , and below the image are the words _"Pastor Atkin's sermon topic: 'Until the Negro is equal, none of us are equal"_.

Well, at least not everyone in this city likes to throw baseballs at dark skinned people. Perhaps this group might be helping others, but I can not dwell on this for long. I can not end Columbia's Raffles any more than I could have rescued the Big Daddies in Rapture - no matter how strong I am or how many plasmids I pump in my veins, it is not enough. It is never enough.

Shifting my thoughts to the next goal, I make my way through this house. As I sneak past two large printing presses, I overhear a man and a woman conversing. They are probably the residence of this building, and I suspect they are discussing my actions at the Raffle.

"Violence is not the answer!" The man insists, "As much as I support her cause and her people, blood must not be shed."

The woman, possibly his wife, appears to disagree. "What do you expect these poor negros to do? How they treat them — it was bound to happen!"

"Violence is not a foregone conclusion." the man states. Truth be told I find myself agreeing with the woman on this.

When I reach the hallway the two see me. The immediately freeze up with fear, perhaps thinking that I am one of Comstock's brutes. They can be forgiven for thinking this, considering I am dressed like one. I have

At least this means my disguise is working-

 _Knock Knock Knock!_

"Police! We're in need of your assistance!". Ugh: _actual_ Comstock Thugs.

That they are knocking, as apposed to busting down the doors, suggests they might think no-one is home. I place my finger to my lips to signal for the two people to remain quiet until these fellows pass; just in case the Columbia Soldiers actually come in I have my repeater rifle.

After a minute, the guard gives an order to his men. "Alright, let's move on…". We wait five more minutes, until I am sure they are gone. Once they are, I take the glove on my right hand off and show the man and the woman the chain tattoo on the underside of my wrist.

Atlas gave me this tattoo so as to mark me as a slave; I thought bad memories would be the worse they could bring, but now Comstock is using them as a mark by which others can identify me as a "False Shepherd". But right at this moment it might convince these two that I mean them no harm.

It works, as both are overcome with a combination of relief and surprise.

"It's him ..." the man gasps, "You're the one they're after."

Maybe now I can learn a little about this city I am in.

"Please, I mean neither of you harm. I am here to rescue a friend from a grizzly end, and to do that I need to know about this city. Who is Comstock, and why is he stoning people every year?"

The woman smiles, though both she and her husband appear apprehensive. "Zachery Hale Comstock founded this city, and claims to be a Prophet. Everyone is expected to worship him, and the worship of any other religion is illegal."

Why does this not surprise me? Neither Comstock nor Ryan liked for people to have loyalties that weren't towards them.

Truth be told I do not know much about the metaphysical; in Rapture there was one group called The Saturnine but I have the feeling that their beliefs began and ended with ADAM. After Atlas died my mentor Brigid Tenenbaum spoke of a Deity named "Yahweh" whom she was raised to believe in - she renounced Yahweh when Auschwitz murdered her family but, when Rapture descended into ADAM-fueled insanity Tenenbaum was pushed by desperation to pray once more. I never asked her for more information on "Yahweh", nor have I read any of the religious texts scattered in the crates in Fontaine Fisheries, nor have I done research on it since going topside. This avoidance is done largely out of fear: I am well aware of how unnatural my existence is, and I am afraid of what attempting to delve too deeply into the philosophical will mean for me and my existence.

Is my anima real, or an I merely an abomination and a freak?

The woman continues, oblivious to my internal struggles. "A major tenet in Comstock's Theocracy is the superiority of the white race. He thinks the other races should only work in the worst jobs, and he hates the ideas of any type of racial mixing."

"Is that why the couple at the raffle was going to be stoned? Because one of them had darker skin than the other?"

The woman nods, "It was very brave of you to disrupt the Raffle."

That is wrong: bravery did not enter into it. It was just the right thing to do. Whether or not it did any good is a different question, but it was still right.

The woman's husband shook his head at his wife's statement, "Did you really need to burn all those unarmed civilians?"

It's not like I premeditated it - it just sort of happened. I nod to the two, and place my glove back on.

"Thank you for hiding me. I hope you suceed in making your friends equal."

With that, I exit the door to their house as quietly as I can. I can not rest easy until Elizabeth is free. Rescue Elizabeth: that is why I am here.


	12. Chapter 12

When I step into the sunlight, I see several blue-clad Columbia Soldiers milling about the area.

There are about sixteen of them, standing about. One soldier whistles the tune "wild prairie roses" in his rough voice and proceeds to miss several notes, another soldier teats some peanuts out of a burlap bag in his hand.

A third soldier complains about me, presumably without knowing I am here. "Can believe it? First the False Shepherd char-broils a bunch of Founders at The Raffle, then a soldier patrolling the rooftops decides he'd rather be a Vox and opens fire on his men without warning! What next, a plague of toads?"

"You'll do well not to treat our duty so lightly. Most would give anything for a chance to take down The False Shepherd", replied another soldier. But her own voice betrays nervousness.

Standing away from the other soldiers is another Fireman. I can hear him scream; his voice is so pained it is a wonder he does not wear out his throat. "It burns! It burns so much! Let me out! PLEASE!"

Even if Tenenbaum was here, I doubt even she could help these poor Firemen. She couldn't fix the Big Daddies, and at least trying to help them wouldn't burn her shin off. Who the ever-loving fuck puts a man in a suit of fire?! This is worse than a Big Daddy; at least Big Daddies are brain washed not to be in constant torment! Why are people so evil?

Focus on the mission Jack; it's beyond your control ...

Sighing with resignation, I make my way over to the man who I suspect is in charge of these officers.

"Sir ..."

Before I can continue, the man interrupts me. "Who are you? You're not in my patrol."

"Uhh ... yes I am." Very convincing Jack. You're a regular Culpepper ...

"And you sat through the whole ride over from the barracks without anyone noticing ... damn your quiet. There's blending with the woodwork and then there's you."

At least it worked.

"Sir, I'm actually not feeling well. I think I need a ride back." If I can just reach Monument Island ...

The officer snorts. "Hah. Trying to get out of work are we? I think you're someone who needs to work double shifts- Good God! What in Comstock's name is that? That looks like something out of the Seven Plagues of Egypt!"

It's a good thing I have Insect Swarm 3; just wielding it causes my hands to become puffy and porous. All I needed to do was activate the Plasmid and take my gloves off.

"Sir, I really need to go back to the barracks before it gets worse."

"How did this happen?!" I injected myself with strange needles!

"I guess it was just like this when I woke up."

"Well, you're clearly not fit to ride a Sky-Line back. I'll have Kerel take you back on the gunship. Kerel! Get over here!"

Another Columbia Soldier, one with an odd accent, runs up to the senior officer and salutes him. "Sir!"

"You're to take Private ... what's your name?"

"Atlas, Sir!" Fontaine is too dead to mind me borrowing his fake name.

The senior officer continues, "Take Private Atlas on the gunship back to the barracks. I don't know what's happened to his hands, but he needs to see a medic urgently."

Kerel takes one look at my Insect Swarm 3! hands, and strait away struggles against the urge to vomit. He then nods, and starts leading me towards the gunship. We climb aboard, he pulls the ramp up, and he begins steering it up and away.

First we fly over the rooftop of a sinister-looking mansion. A statue of Comstock fighting a three-headed snake in front, a giant stone bust of an eye above the entrance, blackened walls ... and a roof covered with ravens. Literally a thousand nests filled with eggs, ravens, bones, and other foulness. I have no idea what is inside, but I am glad I do not have to go in there.

Kerel grimaces at the structure before speaking. "That's the Fraternal Order. I know the Raven Zealots protect Columbia, and that they're supposed to be the elite of the elite ... but they still give me the creeps. No thank you; a Bird's Eye Rifle is enough for me."

Comstock Zealots, Raven-Based Plasmids ... now I am REALLY glad I do not have to go in there.

"You don't sound like other Columbians."

Kerel nods, "Aye, I ascended here after the Boer War. My forefathers were Voortrekkers, but after Queen Vicky crushed The Orange Free State I had to leave to avoid being sent to Camp Bethulie."

"Did you also ride a rocket in a light-house?"

Kerel laughs, "Hah! That really gave me the jitters! It's been ten years and I remember that rocket!"

I watch Kerel, observing how he flies the Gunship. "So did you hear about what happened in the Raffle?"

"Some Voxer tried blowing it up, but they're no match for us. We'll put those Kaffirs in their place!"

Something tells me Kerel didn't listen to Paster Atkin's sermons ...

"So will we reach the barracks soon?"

"Oh yeah; just past Monument Island and then a left to Emporia." He is right; I can see that we are in the very shadow of Monument Island. The statue holds it's hand out, as though to beckon me towards it.

I sigh with a sort of sadness, knowing what I must do ...

"I am sorry ..."

"No worry; It's no trouble taking you to the barracks. Though it's too bad the Captain still has to use a pre-automation gunship-"

Kerel never finished this thought, because while he was steering I swung my wrench at him with all my might. This time there is no ambiguity as to whether or not he is dead; as soon as my wrench connects to his head I head an audible CRACK! and his neck bends in a way that no man can survive.

I am sorry it had to end like this ...

Pragmatically, I fish through the corpse's pockets. I feel something that might be a picture, but I leave it inside out of fear that I might see this man with a loved one. In the other pockets I find bullets, peanuts, chewing tobacco, and silver coins. Once I have these, I take the body to the edge of the gunship and throw it over the side. It plummets into the clouds and vanishes from view; I am sure on the ground someone will find it and wonder about the oddly dressed man who fell out of the sky.

I take the steering wheel, and fly over to the entrance of Monument Island itself. I notice that there are several checkpoints I am passing, and I can only suspect that they are guarded to the hilt. Boy would it have been a pain in the ass if I tried to fight my way through those!

Gently, delicately, I glide the Gunship in position to land at the base of Monument Island.


	13. Chapter 13

Having brought the gunship to a halt, I step off the dock and approach the door to Elizabeth's prison. Around are various signs stating that Monument Island is closed, but that does not deter me anymore than the armed racists did.

Speaking of arms, two clockwork plasmid vendors catch my eye. I had better make sure to examine the vending machines to see which Plasmids/"Vigors" they offer.

I purchase something called "Murder of Crows", then I use "Posession" on the two machines. The green cloud shoots into them, covers them, and causes them to belch out the coins in inserted as well as several new ones ("new" isn't the right word, as most of them are dull and rusted and suggest that these particular machines have not seen use in years). I pick these coins up, and drink down my new plasmid. Once again it tastes horrible, once again I have a jarring hallucination, and now I feel slightly more prepared should another Fireman burst through the door to ambush me.

I push against the door, and it opens. It was not even locked! While that is helpful to me (I don't have an automatic hacking tool, and I only know how hack tube-based locks like the ones in Rapture), it does snow a certain amount of sloppiness on the part of Comstock's Men. Perhaps they expected the checkpoints to stop anyone before they got this far, or perhaps they are setting me up for an ambush. If it's the latter, then my wrench and this rifle I "borrowed" will show any potential ambushers why that would be a mistake. Not to mention the plasmids at my disposal.

This door leads me to a small garden area. There's an empty fountain in the middle, the walls are overgrown with shrubbery and vines, and at the end of the garden is another gate. This gate isn't messing around; in addition to the usual "closed" signs there is also a large coil of chains wrapped around the gate. Now _this_ is how you keep people out.

I try looking for another way around when I spot a freight-hook right over the fence. I do not long ponder this strange architecture choice, I simply jump and let whatever is in my sky-hook work its magic. It works, and in short order I am above the fence. When I retract the sky-hook, I land on the other side with a thud. This time I try to roll so as to break my fall.

Now I make my way up the path to the door to the tower itself. In front of it is a statue of Elizabeth, dressed in a flowing angelic robe and holding a large scroll. I remind myself once again that the most beautiful woman I have ever seen needs me to take her Topside.

But before I can go further, I need to change out of these clothes lest she mistake me for another captor. With her with me, I would not be able to disguise myself as a convincing Colombia Soldier anyway. So I sit at the foot of the statue and remove my disguise.

The first thing to go are the damn boots; as soon as I pull them off I let out a loud moan of relief. Those damn boots did not fit me, and while I could power through the pain I don't want to do so if I don't have to. I put on my old shoes - they fit - and I throw the boots into some bushes nearby. Next goes the helmet and the mask; I too throw those into the bushes. The gloves I toss to my side, as being able to use Plasmids is worth the risk of potentially being spotted. Finally I take off the jacket and the pants I took from the dead soldier.

The only pieces of equipment I keep from the dead soldier are the belt and the rifle. The former because it is extremely helpful for storage without being too conspicuous, and the latter because a pistol just won't cut it if someone tries to kill me again. Plus a belt isn't all that conspicuous.

I also take out the key that the Luteces gave me at the lighthouse; this might be where I need it.

I push the doors to the tower itself open, and come to an empty locker room. Chairs overturned, lockers left open, trash on the floor, and above it all a statue of an angel who looks kinda like Elizabeth. There are signs on the walls making it clear to stay away: "Danger, do not approach the Specimen!" "The Specimen is Dangerous" "Past this point 12 hour quarantine!"

Well, I never let danger stop me before. I will push forward! Just as soon as I do a sweep of the room ...

There is not much in this room; mostly some coins people left on the floor. In the unlocked locker of one janitor, I find a voxophone. "Ty Bradley" is written on the player part, and on the disk itself is the word "diary". I guess the janitor keeps his thoughts down on a voxophone, and ruefully I recall how in Rapture many people kept their thoughts on Audiobooks.

I activate the voxophone, and it plays. "I guess even in a restricted area, these crackers need someone to clean the floors, hm? Hmph. Those politicians and scientists don't bother 'bout what they say 'round me, because I'm some half-lettered colored boy. But I can tell they scared out of their wits by that thing they got locked upstairs, yessir. They got a tiger by the tail, and they don't know whether to hang on...or run."

Scientists? Oh God, why did it have to be scientists ...

Jack, not all scientists torture little girls for fun. And if someone is harming Elizabeth, it is all the more reason to push onward.

Reluctantly, I enter the next room.

The first thing I see is a blackboard with a graph on it, at the end of a small hallway ... and one of the walls in the hallway must have a faulty wire as it is spewing out sparks in an irregular stream (like a Shock-Jockey Splicer who had too much to drink). Without paying mind to the sparks, I walk right through them until I am close enough to the blackboard to examine it. At the top is written "Specimen Morphology" and below are four outlines (age 1, age 5, age 11, and age 17). This tells me two things; first that Elizabeth is somewhere around 17 years old, but more importantly it tells me that these scientists do not even see her as a human being.

 _Advanced Deployment, Lot 111 Dr. Suchong/Client Fontaine Futuristics. Baby is now a year old, weighs 58 pounds, and possesses gross musculature of a fit, 19-year-old. The results are... disappointing, but within expected tolerances._

Jack, calm down! At least Elizabeth's growth was not artificially accelerated. Not like yours. You'll take her out of the tower, then take her to the surface, and everything will be fine. Now just move forward ...

When I walk behind the blackboard I see and ignore two more danger-signs and head into the next room.

Standing prominently in this room is a large machine. There are three levers on it, and behind each lever is a giant glass tube hooked to some electrical wire. Two giant electric arcs from the walls jump to the top of the machine. On top of the machine is a giant sign which reads "SIPHON ACTIVE".

I walk to the first lever, labelled "Transpose No. 1", and pull it. A light shines on the corresponding bottle, revealing a teddy bear and a card that reads "age 4: childhood companion". Then a bolt of something that looks like electricity strikes the bear, causing it to turn black and finally read.

Huh?

When I pull the lever for Transpose No. 2, the second bottle lights up and reveals that it holds a book and a notecard that reads "age 11: poetry book". Again a bolt of lightning from the top of the bottle strikes it, again causing the object to turn blue.

I wonder what's at play here.

When I pull the third lever, that bottle lights up and I get mad. In that bottle is some sort of bloody bandage and a sign that reads "age 13: menarche". I don't know what a menarche is, but I do know what blood is and that it usually only comes out when someone is wounded. Have these people been stabbing Elizabeth? I wouldn't put it past them considering they also drown people and throw rocks at them for the Hell of it.

I quickly leave this room and enter the next one.

It is a hallway; one door at the end, one door to my right, and two doors to my left. While my intuition tells me that the door at the end will bring me closer to my goal, I decide to explore the other rooms first as leaving stones unturned is a good way to get killed.

I head to the first door to my left - a large metal one - and open it. There's a big warning sign above, so I know to ignore it.

When I step into this room, I see a glass chamber with a restraining chair similar to the one on the rocket ship that took me here. There is also a hospital bed, a typewriter, several tanks of some form of gas, an entire wall full of big jars of blood, a camera-and-tripod pointed towards the chair, and more grizzly-looking tools than I can imagine.

Looming above the room is a large sign writtein in big bold words. "CAUTION: TO PREVENT RISK OF EXPOSURE ONLY OPERATE IN ROOMS AFTER SOPORIFIC HAS BEEN APPLIED!". a

Soporific? Have these bastards been drugging Elizabeth?! What have they been doing to her?!

Immediately my head fills with hypothetical of all the potentially horrific tortures at play. What if they're ripping her organs out?! What if they're Mentally Conditioning her? What if I'm already too late!? What if -

When my panic subsides, I find I am outside the door of this room. I most likely rushed out under the direction of instinct. Either way, I head to the second door on the left without looking back.

The second room has a dim red glow, a camera, and photos of Elizabeth. Photos taken without her knowledge or approval, and in one of them she isn't even dressed. I leave this room as quickly as I entered it; then I take a deep breath, and with a sudden turn I fire a blast of Incinerate 3! into the dark room. I fire it, then I fire another one, than another after that. I swear, if I find any of these pervert scientists in Columbia then I am going to disembowel them with my bare hands! What kind of sick fuck locks a girl in a tower her whole life, collects her blood, and spies on her?!

Calm down Jack, what's important is that you get Elizabeth as far away from these creeps as possible.

Only one more side room left before I leave the hallway. Against my better judgement, I decide to investigate it. While the photo room burns behind me, I enter the only door on the right.

Inside is a projector camera on a tripod and several overturned chairs. If this video is of the same nature as the photographs, then I just might lose it.

I turn the video on, and fortunately there is nothing too terrifying. The first title card reads "11/5/11 Lockpick Attempt No. 132". It shows Elizabeth standing in front of the door to her holding cell, examining it in vain, and walking away from it.

After that the film shows a second title card, one that reads "4/15/12 Specimen Investigating Codes". This one is followed by a clip of Elizabeth writing down numbers on a very large data table. It is clear she has not taken her imprisonment passively, but has instead been searching for any possible way out of her prison.

It seems she is clever as well as beautiful ...

Next the film shows Elizabeth painting, putting care and detail into a painting of a triangular tower. The rest of the film shows Elizabeth singing (sadly this is a silent film, but I'm sure Elizabeth's voice is better than mine ... especially considering Tenenbaum had to sew my vocal cords back together with rusty tools) and Elizabeth teaching herself to dance. The elegance and precision with which she does these things -especially in the face of constant imprisonment- speaks of a sort of bravery and grace that is rarely seen in the world.

I head out, and enter the door at the end of the hallway. This door leads to a chamber nearly filled by a giant ... thing! There's no other way to describe the great mass of wires and metal and electric currents and other bits and parts all lumped together into a huge pile. This siphon is also surrounded by large speakers, and they seem to be broadcasting a humming sound. I do not know whose humming that is, but in all likelihood it is probably Elizabeth's. It is a sweet sound, one that feels me with a melancholy for the optimism in this humming is something that I -a living weapon forged in a watery Hell- have never felt and will never feel in my lifetime.

At the end of the Siphon Chamber I see what looks like an elevator. I enter it and press the button: the elevator takes me directly to a small room.

This room has two windows; both blocked by metal shutters. There is a lever in front of one of the windows, and sure enough when I pull it the shutters move aside and reveal what looks like a bedroom. Elizabeth is not in either room, so she must be elsewhere.

I briefly consider using my wrench to bash open the one-way-mirror so as to create an easy escape route for her, but I would rather not risk activating any security systems this place has. Instead I go down the hallway to see what else I can find. At the end of the hallway I find a deactivated list of rooms in Elizabeth's Prison with a light next to each one set to illuminate when she is in that room. The list includes the library, the dining room, the dressing room and the bathroom (I'm REALLY going to kill the creepy scientists if I get a hold of them), the conservatory, and the bedroom.

When I activate the "Specimen Location Tracker", it states that she is in the dressing room.

... I need to find a way to access the prison cell if I'm going to get Elizabeth out of Columbia, and that means I need to search everywhere. If Elizabeth is in a state of undress I'll avert my gaze - somebody in this city needs to respect her privacy.

When I get to the second observation room, I find yet yet another one-way-mirror closed by a lever-activated-metal-shutter. There's a glowing sign above the window that reads "Specimen Present", and another "Specimin-tracker" glowing list. There is a chair and a camera in this room as well ... both pointed at the window.

Did I mention that I am going to kill the scientists who have been spying on Elizabeth? Because given the opportunity I am going to kill them. And it won't be quick either.

I wait in the room until the light above the closed window dims, indicating that she is out of the room. The "Specimen Tracker" indicates she has moved to the dining room. I walk down the hallway towards the third observation room.

As before this room has a mirror covered by metal shutters. This time I feel comfortable pulling the lever to see what Elizabeth is doing.

In her dining room is a desk with a large stack of books on it, around ten-to-twelve sketches of a giant bird pinned to the wall, and a painting of a triangular tower aglow with lights in the night sky.

Elizabeth is wearing a long blue skirt and a white shirt, and her hair is tied back in a ponytail. She seems healthy; I can not see any visible scars or signs of trauma, so perhaps I am not too late -

I am immedeatly caught off-guard by what happens next. Elizabeth walks over to the painting, puts her hands into it, and ... I don't know! All I know is that when she pulls apart the painting and the entire wall itself is gone! Just, just gone! In it's place is a large street leading to the shining triangular tower. Music seems to be eminating from this ... this opening ... and I feel myself breathing more rapidly.

"You acting on your best behavior,

Turn your back on mother nature,

Everybody wants to rule the world-"

We only get a bit of the song before a giant wailing firetruck comes rushing down the street towards us!

Elizabeth makes the opening go away before it does, and in a puff of smoke the wall and the painting are back where they were.

Elizabeth and I are both panting and breathing ragged breaths. For myself, I can feel my heart beating in my chest, the way it gets when I am backed against a wall and a Big Daddy is rushing towards me to drive a Drill through my belly.

But I have to press onward, I have to. My daughters are depending on me to return to them alive, and Elizabeth is depending on me to get her out of this tower and out of this city.


	14. Chapter 14

**Elizabeth**

* * *

It's so blue out there ...

As I stand before the window and gaze out onto the city below, I find myself once again wondering what life must be like for within. They aren't confined to a handful of rooms, they have the entire world to explore.

Don't lose hope Elizabeth; sooner or later you'll figure out the combination for the lock get the door open.

I shake my head sadly at this thought; even if I do get it open, _HE_ won't let me leave. _HE_ will stop at nothing to keep me locked in this tower forever.

Don't lose hope Elizabeth, don't lose hope ...

To distract myself, I hum the tune to that song I heard on my phonograph. It is one of Albert Fink's songs, and even after 19 years of imprisonment I still like it.

 _Everybody Wants to rule the world ..._

Wait, what was that?

I turn around and see that the latch on the ceiling of my library has broken open. Before I can react, a man falls through the opening and into my cell. He lands with a roll, grunting as he does.

I've never seen this man before, what is he doing here?

Cautiously, I make my way over to the man. I grab a book from the shelf as I go, ensuring I have something to use as a weapon should he have malicious intent.

When he pushes himself to his feet, I can get a better look at him. This man appears to be in his mid-twenties, maybe five or six years older than me. He has a friendly enough face, with fair blond hair and green eyes deep with some unknown sorrow and strained by some past trauma.

He wears a white wool sweater, a soldier's duty belt with a pipe-wrench tucked into it, and a Rolston's Reciprocating Repeater slung over his back.

"Who are you?"

When he answers, his voice sounds peculiar, as though his throat has been cut in the past. Yet in spite of that - or perhaps because of it - it is a nice voice all the same. "My name is Jack, Jack Wynand. I'm here to rescue you."

Here to rescue me? Someone's come to rescue me? I can hardly believe it; it's like something out of a Chivalric Romance! This is too good to be true!

I reach my right hand out to him, to make sure this isn't _really_ too good to be true. He doesn't prevent me, doesn't move to stop me. Instead my rescuer, my new ally, simply stares at me with those green eyes ...

At the worst possible time, the whistling statue in my room plays those horrible notes. The songbird is coming, and when he finds Jack here ...

"He's coming ... you gotta go! You don't wanna be here when he gets here!"

Time is running out; I can hear it howling. Soon it will be in here. I shout something into the latch, hoping to buy Jack some time to hide.

Instead of doing that, Jack stands resolved. "I can get you out."

No you can't ...

"There's no way out, trust me I've looked!" Again the Songbird howls and again I try to stall for time.

It is at this moment that Jack presses a cold metal item into my hands. "This will get you out."

"Jack, what is-" I immediately pause with realization. It's ... it's a key! If this key is goes to what I think it does ...

I stare at it in stunned silence for a few seconds, and then run to the door of my confinement as fast as I can. My gallant knight Jack follows close behind me.

Please work ... please please please work ...

I put the key into the door lock and it the mechanism on the large metal door springs to life. It's open! The door is open!

"It's ... It's a way out!"

No sooner does it open than a loud alarm begins to blare and The Songbird's howls become enraged. I have to get out of this tower now! I will never get another chance!

As I run down the metal-lined hallway, I feel my heart beating in my chest as adrenaline pumps through me.

With a screech the Songbird strikes at the outside of the tower, causing part of the roof to collapse. I shout to Jack so he knows why it's tormenting me. "It's his job to keep me locked up in here!"

Undaunted, Jack simply shouts in reply. "Well that's too bad for him!"

As we race down the hallway, the walls and ceiling begin to collapse around us as The Songbird rips and claws at the tower. I find myself moaning with fear as I run as fast as I can, desperate to get away from it. I look behind me to make sure Jack has not been crushed or incapacitated, and every time I do I see him pushing forward in spite of everything.

When we reach the last room in the hallway, I push the elevator button. While we wait for it to arrive, I look around the room.

My bedroom. There are windows looking into my bedroom. People have been watching me.

"What is all this? They were watching me?! All this time ... why? Why did they put me in here? What am I? WHAT AM I?"

Jack does not speak, but I can see he is overcome with a flood of sadness. Silently, his only answer is that he stares at me with those doleful eyes.

Before the elevator can come, The Songbird smashes through the door with it's giant metal claw. Oh God, it's here! He's going to murder my friend and lock me back in the tower and I'm going to die in there!

OhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOhNoOHNO!

I press myself into a corner of this room, close my eyes, and sob. I sob in a panic and try to prologue this moment as long as I can for fear of what might happen next. I hear a gun-rattle in front of me, but the bullets do not stop The Songbird. Nothing does ...

While I curl up miserably, I notice that the Songbird's howling stop. Risking to open my eyes, I see that he is gone! He's not here anymore!

The elevator! It must have come down and forced the bird out of the way! When I push myself up, I see Jack standing directly in front of me with rifle in hand. Jack put himself between me and the Songbird!

Jack smiles briefly at me, the points out at the walkway on the other side of the now-empty elevator shaft. I jump before he can get a chance to, land safely on the other side, and run like I've never run before.

"We have to keep moving! He's tearing the building apart!"

Jack rushes alongside me, and when we reach a metal door he wastes no time pushing it open. He grabs my hand and pulls me along as we walk along the outside of the tower. The wind is blowing hard enough to push us off, but we press upwards.

By the time I see the shadow of The Songbird, it is too late. He knocks the head of the tower off, throwing Jack and I into the air!

I'm falling! I'm falling! "AHHH! AAAHHHHH!"

As we're falling, Jack reaches out for me. I grab his left hand with both of mine, and I grip onto it for dear life. With his other, he takes out a hook-like weapon and grips onto one of the sky-lines.

As we ride along it, I clutch onto Jack's arm so tight that I am probably hurting it. I keep my eyes closed, terrified of the thousands of miles of nothingness between us and the land below Columbia.

As we ride, I hear crumbling sounds. The songbird's destroying the sky-line! He'd rather see me dead than escape!

We fall off the sky line and I lose Jack's grip.

We fall and we fall and we fall, until we land into some water with a loud splash. I flail in the water with surprise - we weren't supposed to land for several hours! Unless ... we're in Battleship Bay. I remember reading about it; an artificial beach in Columbia! Land shouldn't be too far away, and if I survived, Jack must have too!

Fortunately one of the books I read includes swimming instructions. Though I've never actually swam before, I'm able to make my way through the water with only minimal difficulty. It is at this point when I see Jack's body, floating limp on top of the water.

Jack!

I make my way over to him as fast as I can, and see that he is indeed out cold. Fearing for the worst I place my hand on his palm, and promptly breathe a sigh of relief as I still feel a pulse.

I wrap my arms around his torso and begin to kick us both to shore. This close, I can feel just how strong he is. How muscular his physique is. He's certainly well-built ...

I see shore in the distance. If I can get him there, I can preform CPR and try to wake him up. After looking over my shoulder every three seconds and seeing nothing, I can conclude that we've seen the last of The Songbird. For now at least; he'll certainly come back for me sooner or later.

But for now, I have to focus on saving Jack.

* * *

 **Author's Note: The more astute among you might notice that I switched to Elizabeth's perspective in this chapter. Now that they're introduced, I'll be switching back and forth between Jack and Elizabeth's perspectives at different intervals**.


	15. Chapter 15

**Jack**

* * *

Moments ago I was in the water, writhing and flailing before finally sinking into the murk of the horrible horrible water ... I recall that damned Songbird reaching after me into the water before the cracking of its eye lens convinced it to turn back ...

Now I find myself on a soggy metal floor. There is a dim knocking sound, one which grows louder as I push myself to my feet.

"Mr. Wynand! Mr. Wynand!"

That voice sounds familiar, but to whom it belongs I have trouble recalling. When I gather my surroundings, a sense of familiar dread covers over me.

I am in Rapture, in the office of Andrew Ryan. Next to me is a bent golf club, coated in dried blood and brains. Ryan himself is nowhere to be seen ...

"Bring us the girl would you kindly!"

The voice shouts once more, and I ache with unease.

I look up to see Elizabeth in here with me; she is leaning back against Andrew Ryan's old desk. On her face is a look of strain, like that of someone gone catatonic.

"Elizabeth", I ask, " are you alright? Have you been harmed?" She does not respond, but instead continues to hum.

"Are you in there Wynand!" the voice demands.

I have to take her to New York ... I have to get her anywhere but here.

"Elizabeth, they might be splicers. If they are then I will have to go deal with them. Wait until, I will call you when the way is clear ..."

I grab the golf-club from the ground, and walk towards the door ...

* * *

When I awaken, it is to the feeling of Elizabeth's hands pressing rhythmically over my chest and to the sight of her concerned face. She seems to notice my awakening, as a great deal of relief seems to wash over her.

"It's me; Elizabeth. Are you all right?"

I try to nod, but doing so causes me to gag and cough up some of that horrible salt water. God, I hate water ...

With both of her hands she grabs one of mine; I like the way her hands feel. They are soft and gentle and warm, just like her big blue eyes. Eyes that were pleased to see that the water and the bird did not kill me.

While my left hand, I use my right to push myself into a sitting position. I breathe in some ragged breaths, and vaguely I hear some music. It seems to be a jaunty tune, played on an instrument with pipes.

I only vaguely notice it - I've heard music lots of times before - but Elizabeth takes note. She seems utterly captivated by it.

"Do you hear that? It's music!"

I nod, still a bit woozy. "Go on, I'll be up in a bit. Just be careful ..."

She smiles with excitement, "I won't be long. I won't be long Jack."

I had better get up, after I close my eyes for juuust a moment ...

* * *

When I awaken again, the sun is low in the sky. I can not tell how long I was out for because I did not check it the last time I was awake. It might have been a minute, it might have been an hour.

Either way, I need to find Elizabeth.

I stand up, stretch my shoulders, and roll my head to get the kinks out of my neck. First I scan out into the water, and instead of going on forever like the real ocean does this water seems to go off an edge after two or three miles. The presence of low clouds, and large floating buildings nearby, tells me we are still in Columbia.

...

Did you really think it would be that easy Jack? Did you think you could just fall 40,000 feet to an actual ocean and somehow still survive! Come on Jack! Get your head out of the clouds!

Actually, get your whole body out of the clouds. And Elizabeth's too. Time to get to New York.

On the beach are couples sitting close to each other, men and women sun bathing, and children playing in the sand. All of these people are wearing what look like swim suites. I consider asking these people if they have seen Elizabeth, but I decide the risk of alerting any spies in the area is not worth it.

After a brief scan of this area, I can tell that Elizabeth is nowhere to be found in this half of the beach. The only people here are Columbian Beach-goers in weird swimsuits. I had better check the other half of the beach.

While walking through the small hallway that separates them, I see something that might come in handy. A large poster of an airship. "PRESIDENT COMSTOCK'S PERSONAL AIRSHIP!" it says, "AT THE FIRST LADY'S AERODROME" it says. Now I know how we're leaving Columbia.

I walk past the poster and past a crate of life preservers, and there on the other half of the beach I see Elizabeth. She is dancing merrily and care-free with ten or so beach goers ... at the end of the pier.

That means to reach her and take her to The Airship I will need to walk on the pier with horrible sloshing water flanking both sides.

Fuck.

Ok Jack, you can do this! It is only water. Sloshing, swirling, salty, icy, water ... just like the stuff that was destroying that horrible horrible city where you were born ...

Jack! You didn't die in the Baptism Chambers, you should be able to manage this!

Taking in a deep breath, I force myself to walk over to the pier. Finally, After several more deep gulps of air, I actually walk up the pier.

Just keep walking, don't pay attention to the splicer juice on either side of this walkway! Just keep walking!

When I reach the pier, I am able to get a better view of what is going on. One man is on an accordion, one on a fiddle, one on a piano, several other men and women stand in a circle clapping their hands together, and in the middle of the circle is Elizabeth. She is dancing with such grace and energy and pure joy that I feel amazed. Her beauty and her bliss cause Elizabeth to all but shine ...

When she notices me, I feel a bit embarrassed that I was staring at her. But in her exuberance Elizabeth does not seem to notice. "Hello!", she says, beaming, "Oh this is wonderful! Come dance with me Jack!"

She holds out her hands for me. The only problem is I do not know how to dance ...

Fuck it. This is a safe area and it is important to set time aside for unwinding when on dangerous missions. And Dancing with a beautiful woman sure as Hell beats drinking eight bottles of Arcadia Merlot by myself in a dark corner.

I take her hands and allow her to lead.

I have two left feet, and at first I am barely able to keep up with her. Yet somehow I do, with Elizabeth's help, together we dance. In her arms I feel my heart lighten and for a brief moment I am able to forget. To forget that I am surrounded by water, to forget that I ended lives, to forget that others tried to end my life, and even to forget that I am a soulless abomination.

For this briefest moment of lighthearted jubilation, I forget my worries and focus only on this beautiful woman with hopeful blue eyes and dark black hair. This woman who for some reason wants to dance with me.


	16. Chapter 16

**Elizabeth**

* * *

We dance merrily and gleefully in the golden sun, like the faeries of Celtic lore. Though he is a clumsy -I really must teach Jack how to dance after all this is done.- it is a bit endearing in it's own way and to spin him around is an absolute bliss.

He is my knight in shining armor; he freed me from my tower and out-witted my dragon.

As we dance to the sweet melody, I watch as the anxiety and the shyness melt away from Jack's face. There is a lot about Jack I was unable to take note of previously; his warm smile, his rough laugh, and the odd gleam in his pale green eyes.

When we finally finished dancing, we left the pier and walked back onto the beach. I had unconsciously slipped my hand into his, and I only noticed it when I felt the inside of his palm. It bore jagged scars, and I wondered how he might have gotten them. But soon I am just thinking about how warm his hands feel in mine ...

After perhaps an hour and a half, Jack and I finish our dance. I could dance all night but it is getting cold. Besides, there is so much more to explore!

"I'm out ..." I say to myself breathlessly, "It's hard to believe but it's true isn't it?"

I inhale the sweet air to make sure one last time that this is not a dream. It is sweet air, sweeter than any fragrance I could imagine.

"Ah, can you smell that? I've never smelled anything like that before. Have you?"

My Knight answers with a smirk. "Wait until you smell a real beach ..." I hope I get to see one, I hope I get to see many beaches!

When we are on the beach, Jack and I look out onto the waters and the clouds beyond. I can not believe I am out! This is a dream!

"Did you know this artificial beach was built in only six months?" I mention offhandedly. Jack simply nods his head wearily.

"It almost looks like a real ocean," I say, "But it's just a set of elaborate pumps and rain catchers."

Bursting with energy pent up for nineteen years, I run all around the beach to stare at everything in sight. It is all amazing, all exciting, all new! Some things I have only seen before in books, some things are nothing like I have ever seen!

All the while, Jack follows next to me. He appears sullen much of the time, but others I see him smile and see his deep emerald eyes shine. One instance is when I come across a bucket of sea-shells and silver eagles and round flat sea stones.

After asking permission from the boy playing next to the bucket, I take a flat stone from the bucket and stare across at the water.

"Watch this!" I say with a smile, and skillfully I skip the stone across the water. Oh I've always wanted to do that!

Jack smiles at me and stares with those deep emerald eyes of his. After a few seconds he picks up a stone of his own from the bucket and attempts to skip it: it sinks immediately.

"Here, like this." I say as I pick up a third stone, wrap it in Jack's hands, and guiding them with my own help him throw it. It skips very well, and I find myself once again liking the way Jack's hands feel in mine.

"We should head on", Jack tells me in a whisper. "It is getting late and we need to continue onward."

I smile at him. "Where are we going next?" I ask, excited to see more of the world I was previously denied.

"To the Airship. Some friends helped me rescue you, and they said you will only be safe once you are in New York."

Jack is right; we are still in the city. _HE_ is still out there and we will only be safe if we get out of the city.

Seeing my distress, my Knight places his hand over mine soothingly. "Elizabeth, I promise I will not let any harm befall you. The friends waiting for us have your Best Interest at heart; I believe we can trust them. Once we're away from this city there will be a big wide world for you to explore."

Holding his hand back, I nod. "Alright Jack, I will trust you."

We leave the beach and enter what appears to be a gift shop. The first thing I notice is a large poster of a stern old man with a white beard. I do not like this man; he is the same man as the statue whose whistle heralds the call of my horrible captor. I cringe and flinch at the sight of him.

"Jack, its Comstock. I've read about him; they say he can read the future."

Jack simply grimaces and shakes his head.

"I don't like his look." I say to him.

A store-keeper leaning against the wall abruptly voices his opinion on the matter. I had not until now noticed his presence here, and truth be told his spying puts be on edge. "Do you dislike the look of the Prophet, or his gaze?"

I do not answer him. Instead I look at Jack and ask if we can leave now. Jack gently grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs and out of the gift-shop.


End file.
